Tear Down My Reason
by Monchy
Summary: Sequel to Break Apart My Insides. Kurt begins his life at Dalton, and then moves to New York. He meets people, falls in love, and the shadow of Sebastian lingers in his mind. The conflict comes from the fact that, at the end of the day, you can't be your father's boyfriend. PLEASE READ WARNINGS.


**WARNINGS: INCEST**

**A/N: please do read the warnings. Also, Kurt/Blaine and Kurt/Hunter are explicit. No character bashing.**

* * *

**Tear Down My Reason**

Kurt starts his first year at Dalton with a sad smile. He feels old and weary, and he doesn't think he can muster a smile for a bunch of preppy boys in a blue and red uniform. It's Jeff who changes that, a blonde boy who smiles enough for both of them and who upon meeting him, declares their shared bedroom a sadness free space.

Before Dalton, Kurt had spent his summer in Lima, wandering through streets that reminded him of Burt, that brought back small memories of happier times. Carole had avoided the subject of his deceased father altogether, but had followed him around with worried glances while trying to lift his spirits with home cooked meals. Kurt had forced soft smiles for her, because at this point, she was the closest thing to a parent he had left. Finn, for his part, had been his aloof self, and Kurt had never been more grateful for his happy demeanor and his ability to stay away from subjects Kurt didn't want to talk about.

Kurt hadn't talked to Sebastian at all, ignoring the itch to grab a phone and call him. He kept thinking that nothing bad could come from a short chat, but if Sebastian was so determined to keep him away, then Kurt would do his best to banish him from his life altogether, keeping nothing but confusing memories – of soft, big hands and green eyes – and a colorful scarf – too expensive to come from someone else, too much of a reminder of Sebastian's life and family, so different from his own.

By the time he put his blazer on and walked into Dalton with a few suitcases and Carole trailing behind him, Kurt had managed to work himself into a state of complete numbness. Carole had hugged him goodbye, clinging to him and whispering _come visit us every few weekends, sweetheart_, so soft and caring that Kurt had nearly broken down. He'd clutched back, eternally grateful for this woman that cared for him more than anyone with his own blood did. Finn had patted his back, and then they had left him to settle down into his whole new life.

* * *

Jeff is a force of nature, so much that he makes Kurt break into an honest smile a few minutes after meeting him. He seems proud of it, too, and Kurt can't help a laugh because everything about Jeff is completely contagious.

"You can sing?" Jeff asks excitedly when Kurt mutters a question about the Dalton Glee Club. "You _have _to join The Warblers! It's by invitation only, old traditions, yada, yada, yada, you know? But fortunately for you, your awesome roommate is part of the group."

When Jeff smiles, even brighter than before, Kurt smiles back. They're walking down the long hallways of the school, Jeff literally dragging him, hand clasped tightly to his own. Jeff's fingers are long and dry, warm to the touch and soft even while pulling Kurt along. Kurt's pretty sure his determination to stay quiet and be invisible in this school is a lost cause. A part of him is rebelling against the thought, wanting to stay in the miserable place he's been living in – dad's gone, everything about Seattle was a mess, and the thought of Sebastian haunts him – but another part is glad that there's someone forcefully pulling him out of his wallowing.

"This is Nick," Jeff says, plunking down on a chair at the enormous Dalton dining hall, and pointing at the boy in front of them. "He's great, you can like him."

"Gee, thanks, Jeff," Nick answers, "you're so magnanimous."

Jeff smiles at the boy, his eyes crinkling. He still hasn't let go of Kurt's hand, as if he's afraid he's going to run away any second. Admittedly, Kurt has thought about it at some point on their way down the hallway.

Nick looks at Kurt then, and after a second of appraisal, he smiles. "Don't worry too much about Jeff," he says, "If you humor him he won't murder you in your sleep."

Jeff gasps next to him, brings his free hand to his chest in a mock-offended gesture. "How dare you! I am adorable and all of you love me. Honest," he says, nodding importantly and looking at Kurt, "Nick's secretly in love with me and everything."

"Of course I am," Nick replies, his tone sarcastic and yet full of fondness. Kurt has little more than a second to study the exact extent of that fondness before a fourth boy settles on their table.

"Blaine!" Jeff exclaims. "You'll love Blaine, Kurt," Jeff assures, "Everybody loves Blaine."

"It's kind of annoying, actually," Nick quips.

Jeff dismisses the comment by waving his hand. "No, it's not. Blaine's like our puppy, and we all love him." With that said, he pats Blaine's head twice, constant smile not losing its strength.

"I'm just going to ignore everything you just said," is the first thing Blaine says, pushing Jeff's hand away. His tone is smooth and solid, and Kurt likes it immediately, much more so when Blaine extends a hand his way and says, "I'm Blaine."

Kurt drops Jeff's hand for the first time since they left their room, and presses it to Blaine's. The touch is firm and short, enough that it makes Kurt want to reach back for it.

"I'm Kurt."

"Oh, I can see love in the making," Jeff says, "Lovely."

"Stop scaring him," Blaine scolds, "he'll think we're all like you and run away from us."

"What? No way. Kurt already adores us. He's alright," Jeff assures, turning to look at Kurt. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm alright," Kurt answers, and for the first time in a long while, he actually means it.

* * *

It doesn't take Kurt long to fall in love with Dalton. He finds the uniform a tad stifling, makes a point of wearing brooches, scarves and anything that expresses his mood, if only because his rebellious nature hasn't been completely squashed. The hallways are peaceful, though, and everyone is respectful.

For the first few weeks, he instinctively flinches whenever he crosses paths with a lacrosse player, until one day Blaine presses his hand softly to the small of his back, looks at him with eyes full of understanding and says:

"No one's going to hurt you here, Kurt."

No one does, and Kurt learns to relax.

He joins The Warblers through Jeff's invitation and what the council calls a remarkable audition, and finds himself a circle of boys that nod at him in the hallways and invite him to movie marathons. He doesn't get any solos, learns quickly that they all go to Blaine and his natural charm, but is more than happy to stay in the background. Back in the day, when New Directions had been nothing more than a band of ragtag losers, he would have screamed himself raw for an opportunity to shine, but now being front and center feels like too much of an effort.

There are still walls around him, Kurt knows. There's scars and pain, the constant swirling thoughts of Burt and Sebastian and everything attached to them, so many that Kurt still needs to retreat into himself occasionally. It's Nick who understands this the most, knows when Jeff's needling gets to be too much and when Kurt needs quietness.

Blaine, for his part, is awfully oblivious to Kurt's moods, almost as much as Jeff. He's aloof and full of life, though, kind-hearted and warmer than anyone Kurt has ever met. Kurt spends a lot of time studying him, his hazel eyes and the upturn of his lips, his dark skin and the angles of his handsome face. He wonders, fleetingly, if his heart has the ability to love this boy.

* * *

A couple of weeks before Christmas, he calls Sebastian. He's been dreading the idea since it formed in his head, but now that he's looking at the prospect of spending the holidays with Finn and Carole, he can't help himself. The phone rings and rings, and no one picks up. Kurt leaves a message.

"I know you'll say no, but it's Christmas, Sebastian, and no one should be alone. Visit Ohio, come look at this depressing place with me? Or let me go see you. Please."

He gets no answer.

* * *

Three days after Christmas day, Kurt's lounging on a couch with Finn sitting next to him, his long limbs awkwardly stuffed in the small space. Rachel is with them too, sipping on her drink and babbling about how Kurt doesn't spend any time with them at all anymore. Kurt mumbles some weak excuses about life at Dalton, too tired to explain that the New Directions don't feel like home anymore. They're different now, they have bonded over the past year, they have new members, and Kurt doesn't fit in anymore. At least not this version of himself, sadder, quieter and moodier, full of secrets he doesn't want to tell.

He'd been surprised to learn that Mercedes had bonded with Santana, that she was dating some blond new kid, that Finn and Rachel had become one of those annoying on and off couples, that Quinn had gone crazy during the summer, that Puck had spent a year following Lauren Zizes around. Kurt has missed too much, and the bonds he had with half the people in the club don't make sense now that he isn't a part of it.

He's about to surreptitiously change the subject of the conversation when Carole walks into the room, bringing some sodas and snacks. Finn dives for them like a starved man, and Kurt smiles fondly at him.

"This arrived for you, dear," says Carole, looking at Kurt. She reaches out, a small package in her hand. "I think it's from your father."

Kurt flinches, feels like he's been punched. He doesn't know if it's because _there's a package from your father_, or because Carole used the term father when talking about Sebastian.

He takes the small, flat parcel with shaky fingers, and after a look around the room – Finn's eating contentedly, Rachel's glancing at him with curiosity written on her features, and Carole looks worried – he steps away from it, goes to the small room Carole has prepared for him for the short periods of time he spends here.

When he's alone, he clutches the parcel to his chest, pressing his fingers to the brown paper around it. He breathes in, slowly. After a second, he opens it to find a book nestled inside. It's an old edition of _Wuthering Heights_, worn down but beautiful. It smells of closed spaces and leather, and Kurt loves it immediately. Inside the book, he finds a short note:

_Thanks for the invitation, but I have familial duties and you have a lovely house to go to. Merry Christmas, love. S.S._

Kurt reads the note, and then he reads it again. He notices that Sebastian uses the word house instead of home, and his eyes skim once, twice, three times over the word love. He wonders if that is what they have, love of any kind, and he hates that he can't even decipher his own feelings on the matter. He knows he _needs _Sebastian, needs him now more than ever, when it's Christmas and they're all the family they have left.

He wants to cry, but he refuses to let the tears fall. He sits on the floor and hugs his knees, keeping the book held tight between his fingers. He hates that Sebastian is the one calling the shots and setting the terms, picking and choosing the whats and the whens of their relationship as he sees fit. At the same time, he's so relieved that there's still some kind of relationship that he can barely handle the contradiction of his own feelings.

He keeps the book, anyway. He also keeps the note, safely stuffed in a small box. He gets the feeling that there will be more in the future.

* * *

After Christmas, he goes back to Dalton and realizes how much easier it is to breathe in the hallways of the school. Jeff hugs him as if they've been separated for years, and Nick pats his back affectionately. Kurt loves these boys, he realizes, will be eternally grateful for Jeff's sunny personality and Nick's quiet demeanor.

Seeing Blaine again hits him like a lightning bolt. He's missed him, Kurt realizes. He's missed him more than he knew he could, and the thought brings a smile to his lips. Blaine is sweet and kind, he's a handsome gay boy and Kurt likes him. It feels like a victory, even if he doesn't know over what.

Life goes on at Dalton. The classes are hard and The Warblers keep him busy. He goes for coffee with Blaine on the weekends, listens to Jeff whisper his secret feelings for Nick, goes to the movies, and has a normal, simple life.

At the beginning of February, they get a new student. Hunter is the definition of tall, dark and handsome, and after he joins The Warblers, he latches onto Kurt. The day they meet, he informs Kurt that he's not even remotely bicurious, introduces him to his cat, and tells him about being a military brat. He doesn't talk much, barely relates to anybody, but always spares a couple of minutes to talk to Kurt. Kurt isn't exactly sure why, but he likes Hunter, appreciates that they can share comfortable silences.

"Why does Captain Mystery like you so much, Kurt?" Jeff wonders out loud.

Kurt just shrugs. He's given up on understanding Hunter at this point.

Blaine dislikes Hunter almost from the get go. Kurt doesn't really know why, not when Blaine is so openly kind to everybody else. He suspects it has something to do with Hunter's charisma, how no matter how serious and quiet he is, his performances are sexy and full of sass. If that's the case Kurt can't be sure, but he reassures Blaine by saying:

"You're still our superstar, you know?"

The smile Blaine gives him is so blinding that Kurt feels warmer just by standing close by.

* * *

They lose Regionals to the New Directions. That night, after commiserating and whining about the injustice, Kurt's walking next to Hunter when he catches sight of Nick erasing Jeff's long, sad expression with a kiss. Jeff latches on so hard that he nearly topples them over with his enthusiasm. Nick laughs into his mouth, small and happy, and Kurt sighs dreamily.

"About time, huh?" Hunter says next to him.

Kurt nods, happy, because every hope he has on true love he has placed on Jeff and Nick. He watches Jeff drag Nick away, both of them going in the direction of his own room, and Kurt sighs.

"Guess I'm out of a room for a while," he says.

"Let's go out for a drink," Hunter proposes, "you and me."

Hunter leaves no room for argument, giving Kurt a mysterious _I know a place_ when he says that they're minors and therefore _can't _get a drink. That's how they end up in Hunter's car, sharing a bottle of disgusting vodka that Kurt doesn't want to know how Hunter acquired. He feels the less he knows about this, the better.

A while into their little escapade, Kurt's feeling pleasantly buzzed. He feels warm all over, and his mind is starting to wander down dangerous places, bringing back memories of the alcohol he'd tasted on Sebastian's mouth the first time they'd kissed. He turns to look at Hunter, focuses on his profile to avoid any other thoughts. It's a pretty profile, Hunter's neck smooth looking and long, his lips full and dark.

"Why do you talk to me?" Kurt wonders after a minute of staring.

Hunter looks at him, his dark eyes filled with mirth because Kurt must be drunker than he thinks. "What do you mean?"

Kurt shrugs. "You don't talk to people, just me. Why?"

Hunter stares for a second, and then looks forward, keeping his eyes away from Kurt. "You're different, with the brooches and the scarves and stuff. You look _out of place,_" Hunter explains. "I'm not saying that the others are awful or anything, but I'm tired of fucking privileged families and their sense of honor. I have enough with mine as it is."

Kurt flinches, notices the anger behind Hunter's words. He feels suddenly compelled to tell Hunter about his own fucked up family tree, but swallows the words before they come out. He doesn't want to talk about Sebastian, or about family obligations.

"Besides, I don't like people all that much," Hunter continues, shrugging yet again. He's abandoned the half full bottle of vodka somewhere in the car, and his hands are placed firmly on his thighs. They are nice thighs, Kurt thinks, before he can look away.

Strangely enough, Kurt gets it. He's gone through periods of time in which he lost complete faith in humanity, and even now has a hard time forming relationships and letting people in.

"People don't like me too much, either," Hunter says after a beat.

"You could be nicer, you know?" Kurt counters. "Although everyone is kind of scared of you after the whole incident with the Splenda."

Hunter groans, and Kurt watches how his shoulders sag, frustrated. "I had a very bad week, ok?" Hunter nearly growls. "And I fucking hate Splenda."

"Because it tastes like pencils."

"Damn right it does."

Kurt laughs, because Hunter is almost pouting, his lower lip jutting forward _just so._

"Anyway, I know which battles to fight," Hunter says after sulking for a minute, "Blaine's never gonna like me, and the group follows his lead."

"Blaine doesn't dislike you," Kurt protests weakly, "He just doesn't know you."

Hunter snorts. "Blaine's so jealous he sees red every time I stand in your vicinity." Kurt says nothing to that, not knowing exactly what Hunter means, and in the end Hunter explains with, "You _do_ know that Blaine is insanely jealous because he's head over heels for you, don't you?"

Kurt stays silent. He's dumbfounded, his brain a little fuzzy and suddenly assaulted by the idea that Blaine wants him. It's a little overwhelming.

"You're all so dumb," Hunter says.

"I'm starting to understand why people don't like you."

By the time Kurt gets back to his room, his brain is almost clear and all too awake with Hunter's parting words – _go tap that already, Kurt, watching you two is exhausting. _He finds Jeff sleeping peacefully, and smiles a little in his direction. He barely gets any sleep of his own, though, his mind reeling with contradicting thoughts that take him in too many directions.

* * *

Two days later, Nick and Jeff announce their love to the world. Jeff is very literal about it, stepping onto the Council's table – nearly giving Thad a heart attack – to swear eternal love. Nick wrestles him down from it among catcalls and applause, and when they peck each other shortly on the mouth, Blaine sighs next to him. Later, when they're both alone, he says:

"I want that. That… feeling."

Kurt blinks his way, wonders if Blaine might be talking about him.

"Have you ever had a boyfriend?" Kurt asks.

Blaine shakes his head, looks down. "No. My romantic advances only go as far as serenading a poor, oblivious guy at the Gap. I'm sure you've heard the story." Only a beat passes before Blaine continues with, "How about you?"

Kurt falls silent for a minute, thinking of his sexual awakening, of kissing a boy named Taylor because it was easier than wanting his biological father, of ending up in his father's bed anyway. He thinks of the tension between him and Sebastian, of the push and pull that is their strange relationship.

"No," Kurt says finally, shaking his head, "Never."

Kurt watches as Blaine takes a big breath, as if readying himself for a hard task, before he launches into a speech. "Do you like Hunter, Kurt?" he asks, but continues before Kurt can answer. "Because sometimes I think you do, and I get so insanely jealous because I like you, Kurt." He stops, breathes in again. "I like you, Kurt," he repeats. "You're sweet and quiet and sometimes insecure, but you're the most interesting boy I've ever met, and you know who you are and you _move me_, Kurt, so much, and I want to spend all my time with you."

Kurt blinks before he can say anything. He looks at Blaine, handsome and wonderful, sitting down next to him on the leather couch, his ever present blazer open and his expression a bit desperate. Kurt wants to reciprocate his feelings, and he's surprised by that. Sometimes he thinks he's too broken for feelings like these, too stuck on Sebastian to feel something as simple as a crush.

"I like you, too," he says finally, once he snaps out of his own twirling thoughts.

Blaine smiles at him, sunny and big, and Kurt loves this. He loves that it's sweet, innocent and easy, that it bears no complications beyond shyness and regular teenage awkwardness. When Blaine leans forward, Kurt does too, and they meet in the middle. Blaine's kiss is soft and unassuming, just a short lip lock. When they break apart, Blaine is blushing, his cheeks tinted a light red, and his smile creating pretty laugh lines around his eyes. Kurt chases his lips, kisses him again and holds him still by pressing both hands to his warm cheeks.

They kiss for hours, soft and slow and then hard and fast until they're wrapped around each other on the couch, their hands at each other's backs and their lips feeling raw and tender. If someone walks in on them, Kurt doesn't notice, consumed as he is by the easy closeness he's sharing with Blaine.

* * *

They don't announce themselves the way Jeff and Nick did, and by the time people notice, Kurt is already used to the way Blaine's fingers feel against his own, to the taste of his lips and the curve of his waist. They're taking it slow, talking and talking about everything with flushed cheeks and shy looks. Blaine says that he's a virgin, and Kurt stays quiet, letting Blaine assume whatever he likes. Kurt supposes he doesn't exude sexual energy, and he's not about to share how he sometimes thinks about the way Sebastian's lips had felt around his cock.

For his birthday, he takes Blaine, Hunter, Nick and Jeff to Carole's, where they celebrate with Finn and Rachel. Blaine's adorably nervous about meeting Carole, and spends all afternoon crushing Kurt's fingers between his own. Carole adores them all, even Hunter, who spends the evening planning the conquest of the world through song with Rachel.

Blaine gets him a bowtie, colorful and soft, and Kurt says thank you with a kiss. There's more presents than Kurt remembers ever receiving, but even after opening them all up, Carole offers him one last wrapped package. It's from Sebastian, of course, a snowflake shaped brooch that looks more expensive than anything else Kurt owns. There's a note, too, short as always:

_Happy Birthday, love. Eat a piece of cake for me, and celebrate like there's no tomorrow. S.S._

Kurt touches the brooch almost reverently. It's lovely, so lovely, and Kurt hates that Sebastian knows how to pick his gifts. He barely holds his tears, feeling frustrated with Sebastian the way he always does. He wants to punch him, and he wants to kiss him, and he hates that he needs to see him to do either one.

Hunter, Jeff and Nick go back to Dalton that night, but Blaine stays. He blushes furiously when Carole sends him into Kurt's room, saying that him sleeping on the couch is nonsense. Kurt is intensely grateful to this woman that has decided to keep him in her life.

That night, in the shadows of the room, Blaine asks about the mysterious gift. Kurt gives him the short version of the story, saying that when he talks about his dad he means Burt, and that Sebastian is not really a father, but that he means a lot to him. Blaine nods, tries to get him to talk more about it, and Kurt silences him with a kiss.

They've done nothing more than kiss, but they're young and alone in a bedroom and Kurt's pretty sure that they're in love, so he lets his hands wander under Blaine's shirt, exploring soft, warm skin.

"I don't want to pressure you," Blaine murmurs against his mouth after his hips grind down sharply and Kurt feels his hard cock for the first time.

"You're not," Kurt assures him, bringing his hands to Blaine's ass and pressing down until their hips are pushed together.

They only rub against each other that night, keeping their clothes on even if they let their hands wander under them and over sweaty skin. They take it slow, and it's a little bit clumsy and very sweet, with Blaine laughing softly against Kurt's mouth until he's panting instead. Kurt lets himself swim into the feeling, get lost in being a shy teenager starting to discover his boyfriend's body. When he comes, one of his hands squeezing Blaine's ass for dear life and the other spread between his shoulders, he sighs soft and low, and smiles into the kiss Blaine presses on his mouth.

They clean up and curl around each other, and through the peaceful haze he's settled into, Kurt wishes that this had truly been his first sexual experience. That feeling lasts for all of a second, because he can't regret Sebastian, their twisted relationship or the intensity of his feelings for him.

He twists and turns until he's plastered as close to Blaine as humanly possible, and concentrates on the feeling of his body against his own. Blaine sighs against his ear in his sleep, and with that, Kurt finds his own rest.

* * *

Now that Kurt's eighteen, he decides to sell his dad's shop. Ray, who's been managing it so far wants to buy, and the fond way he talks about Burt is enough to convince Kurt to sell it to him. Ray says he'll keep the name, and then gives him a box with a few trinkets of Burt's that are still around the shop. There's a picture of Kurt in there, his old bedazzled coveralls, and Burt's own pair. Kurt takes the worn, rough fabric between his fingers and brings it to his nose, trying to inhale any residual smell it may have. It smells like the cardboard of the box, but it almost makes Kurt cry anyway.

* * *

Kurt gets into Parsons. He knows money is not a problem, not with the shadow of Sebastian taking care of him, but he still applies for a scholarship and gets a full ride. He can't wait to get to New York.

Finn tells him that everyone around him seems to want to run away, and then explains that Rachel's going to NYADA herself. Mercedes and Puck are headed to L.A. and Santana to Louisville, and Finn doesn't know what to do with his life. Kurt hugs him tight, tells him to take his time and to come visit.

Blaine is happy for him, but sad about a full year of staying behind while Kurt goes to live his life in a different city. He tells him that they're strong enough to survive the year, that in between Kurt starting a new life and Blaine busy with his senior year they won't even have time to miss each other.

"What are _your _plans?" Kurt asks Hunter one night. They're sitting in Hunter's car, the starry night above them and soft music playing on the radio. "You never talk about them."

Hunter shrugs, visibly awkward about talking about this particular subject. "It all comes down to whether I'm going to follow my parent's wishes or not. I'm undecided. Who knows? Maybe I'll see you in New York."

* * *

After graduation, Jeff hugs him like a drowning man, tells him over and over to call, write, visit and that he'll be sure to do the same. Nick gives him an awkward hug, unused as he is to affection when it doesn't come from Jeff. It's still tight and warm, though, and it ends with Nick repeating Jeff's instructions. Kurt is the one to hug Hunter like there's no tomorrow. He's still undecided on where he's heading to, and Kurt knows he won't get any promises of communication out of him, so Kurt's afraid they'll never see each other again. He's surprised when Hunter hugs back with the same desperation.

He doesn't say goodbye to Blaine, not when they have a full summer ahead of them to do whatever they please.

* * *

Kurt spends the summer showing Blaine around Lima. He shows him his dad's shop, his old high school, the Lima Bean, and they spend hours on Carole's porch, basking in the sun and drinking lemonade. Kurt feels nostalgic, thinks that this will be the second time he leaves Ohio with tears in his eyes.

He talks about Seattle, too. He talks about the city, and about the piles of books in Sebastian's apartment, he talks about how much he hated school there and about Sebastian mocking his outfits and then defending him to death.

"You always look so torn when you talk about your father," Blaine tells him.

"He's not my father," Kurt counters, "Not really."

On their second week of vacation, Blaine presses close to him, his lips barely touching Kurt's cheek, and says:

"My parents are gone for the weekend." It's a murmur, low and shy. "I thought you could stay with me."

"Yeah, that's… yes."

Later that night, they lie down together on the bed and just look at each other for a while. Kurt's nervous about this, and he doesn't know why. He smiles, though, and when he can't take it anymore he moves forward and kisses Blaine, slow and sensual.

They take their time with their clothes, removing them slowly and laughing when Blaine's pants get stuck at his ankles, and when Kurt's shirt reveals another layer underneath.

"You're going to kill me here, Kurt," Blaine whines against his last white shirt.

Kurt laughs, brings him closer. "You'll get there, tiger."

When they're finally naked, they're both so desperate that laughter has died down. Kurt pants into Blaine's mouth, barely able to kiss him in between his ragged breaths. Blaine's weight on top of him feels incredible, his small but strong body pressing him into the mattress. Kurt scratches his back, puts his other hand to the back of Blaine's thigh and presses his fingers there in a hard caress.

Blaine spreads his legs above him, settling on his lap and aligning their cocks deliciously. His hips are rolling in unconscious circles when he leans down and whispers:

"What do you want to do?" He closes his eyes, opens them again a second later. "We don't have to do everything."

Kurt shakes his head at the same time he brings both hands to Blaine's hips. He presses his thumbs to the jutting bones there, circles them in a small caress. It's hard to think with Blaine on top of him.

"I want to do everything," he says, finally.

Blaine grunts above him, and then crashes their mouths together. "Will you fuck me? I want you to fuck me." He's blushing, but Kurt knows he's too far gone to care at this point. Kurt can't bring himself to feel shy either with Blaine asking this of him.

Kurt pushes Blaine back onto the bed, and takes his time with him. He's afraid he's going to do something wrong, to hurt Blaine, so he fingers him until Blaine is keening, whining for more. When he settles between Blaine's parted legs, he takes a moment to look at him, sweaty and blushed under him, breathing hard as his hands find purchase on Kurt's shoulders.

Kurt kisses him, lets his tongue fill Blaine's mouth at the same time his cock fills his body. Rhythm and precision are difficult from then on, but sex isn't rocket science after all, and once Blaine is comfortable with Kurt inside him they move easily against each other. Kurt's abs feel tight and his arms hurt from the position, but he couldn't care less, not when Blaine seems to be hitching his legs higher and higher around his waist, and when he's responding so prettily to Kurt's thrusts.

Blaine comes a moment after Kurt touches his cock, and Kurt follows soon after. He slumps on top of Blaine ungraciously, and breathes hard against Blaine's neck. They don't say anything for a while, basking in the afterglow of the pleasure, and it is only when Kurt starts getting goose bumps that they move to clean up.

Blaine's smiling when they curl on the bed, naked under the covers and still a little flushed.

"We need to do that a lot before you leave," he says, letting his hand go up and down Kurt's back in a soothing pattern. "Like, a lot."

Kurt laughs and squeezes Blaine's hip. He can do this, and he's allowed to like it, isn't he? Maybe he's not broken, after all.

* * *

Saying goodbye to Blaine is a bittersweet affair. He hates the thought of leaving him behind, but he can't help but be excited about New York. When he gets on the plane, he murmurs to himself _I did it, dad, I did it._

* * *

New York life is busy and lonely, but Kurt can't say that he cares. He's rented a shoebox of an apartment that he adores, and what little free time he has, he uses on walking around the city, aahing and oohing like any other tourist. He thinks back to his time in Seattle, the long walks that made him fall in love with the city (He doesn't think about Sebastian, he doesn't, _he doesn't_).

School is hard, a competitive niche of designer wannabes like himself who look at him like he's gum on their shoes just because he comes from Ohio. He has more fashion in his pinky finger than they do in their whole body, and Kurt's too entirely used to bullies to care about them. He misses Dalton, though, the safe haven that he found there with Jeff, Nick, Hunter and Blaine.

On his second week in the city, he receives a call from Rachel. He's surprised to a certain extent, because they've never bonded, and now that she's not with Finn anymore, he thought they'd silently agreed to politely ignore each other. He'd figured Rachel would be too busy conquering NYADA to pay him any attention. When he takes the call though, what greets him is a crying Rachel.

"I just, I miss Ohio, and I miss Finn and this stupid school is like McKinley all over again and I really, really need a hug, Kurt."

Kurt ends up meeting her for coffee at some posh little shop near NYADA. Her eyes are red rimmed and tired, and her hair is a bit of a mess. Kurt feels his heart constrict for her, knowing the kind of loneliness she's going through all too well. He sits by her with his own cup of coffee, and squeezes her hand when she doesn't say anything.

"I thought it was going to be fabulous, you know?" she's saying minutes later. "Like, people who actually care about singing, I thought they'd be my peers, not my new enemies."

Kurt snorts. "Have they done that thing where they look at you like you're an annoying mosquito and say _oh, so you're from Ohio_?"

"Oh my God, yes!" Rachel exclaims. "It may as well be the tenth circle of hell the way they say it."

When he says goodbye to Rachel later that evening, he does it with a hug and a promise to take New York by storm. Her determined self seems to be back after a few laughs with Kurt, and Kurt smiles at her retreating back, just because he never thought his first friend in New York would be someone from his past.

He walks home with a smile on his face. The weather is coldish and his cheeks are flushed, the city is big and bright around him, he has a boyfriend to Sky-P, and Kurt Hummel is happy. Absent father or not, he's happy.

* * *

Two months after his arrival in New York, Blaine breaks his heart. It's just four words – _I was with someone – _and Kurt's world is crumbling beneath him. He knows how hard a few, simple words can be – _he wasn't your biological father; I'm sending you away – _and he doesn't know how he's going to recover from these ones. They feel like a knife to his chest, and they twist and twist there until all Kurt can do is cry. He doesn't listen to Blaine's apologies, can't bear to look at him after his confession.

Still crying, he goes to Rachel. She clutches him against her chest, holding him against her tiny frame and whispering nonsense in his ear.

"I feel like I want to die," he says. "I don't know how to survive this."

"You're too fabulous to leave this world, Kurt Hummel."

She lets him sleep on her bed that night, and holds him all through it. Kurt doesn't know how he went from someone who flinched at a simple touch to someone who craves contact so desperately, but he blames Sebastian for it.

He ends up spending most of the weekend with her, crying half the time and staring into space the other. This is a whole new kind of pain, one mixed with anger and with the compulsive need to run after Blaine and forgive him for everything. He'd been so happy, so elated about the simplicity and easiness of their relationship that he can't help but want to get it back immediately. He knows, though, that his heart won't forgive Blaine that easily.

* * *

Next weekend, it's Rachel who comes to his place. It's Friday night, and they have a Barbra movie marathon planned, one of those destroying ones with ice-cream and cookies. Kurt's never had one of those, and Rachel is appalled that he's survived all this time without a proper girl friend. She claims the role for herself, and hugs him as a celebration. Kurt still can't believe that the person that is starting to become his rock is the same Rachel Berry he dressed as a sex kitten in a petty attempt to keep her away from Finn during his sophomore year.

They're settled down for the first movie when the doorbell rings. Kurt isn't expecting anybody, he's wearing his oldest pair of sweatpants and his hair is a complete mess. He's not sure he's prepared to receive anyone at his door, but when the ringing continues, he gets up. He opens the door only to be immediately jumped by a lanky blonde.

"Kurt!" Jeff screams right against his ear. "Stop drowning in your sorrow, we're here to rescue you!"

Kurt's too dumbfounded to do anything but hug Jeff back. From behind him, Kurt spies Nick wearing a resigned expression.

"I'm sorry for this," he says, "but you know he can't be stopped when he gets an idea."

"An awesome idea! I'm going to hug Kurt until he can't stop smiling. You're already feeling better, aren't you?" Jeff clutches him impossibly tighter, and if Kurt is completely honest with himself, he _does _feel better.

He laughs, small and tired, but he laughs, and then asks, "What are you two doing here?"

"Oh, you know us preppy kids," Nick says, "we tell mom and dad that we want to cheer up a friend in New York and they buy us tickets for the weekend."

"Spoiled brats," Kurt says, fondly. Jeff hasn't let go of him yet, and he's pretty sure he's not going to in a long while. Kurt loves these boys so much it almost makes up for everything else.

"What's going on, Kurt?" Rachel asks, coming to the door.

He feels Jeff wave at her. "We're the official cheering up patrol," he says. "Want to join our weekend of fun?"

Rachel squeals, loud and excited, and closes the circle by hugging Kurt's back. "Your friends are the best, Kurt."

And yeah, they kind of are.

* * *

The weekend is a blur in which Kurt barely has the time to stop and think. Rachel makes herself the leader of the visit and drags them around town, leaving no room for protest. Jeff is excited enough for all of them, taking pictures of literally everything, and Nick's smile goes from awed at his surroundings to adoring at his boyfriend in a second. Kurt should hate them a little for loving each other so much, but he can't honestly begrudge the clear connection they have.

Nick and Jeff spend their nights in Kurt's sofa-bed, wrapped tightly around each other. They sleep soundly, tired as they are from walking around all day long. Kurt barely sleeps, though. He's been a light sleeper since his days in Seattle, and now that he has so many thoughts in his head, sleep eludes him almost constantly. He's tired, though, wishes he could have a full night's sleep.

On their last night in town, Nick finds him on the small balcony that leads to the exterior stairs. It's late and cold, and when he steps outside he immediately steals half of the blanket Kurt's wearing over his shoulders and sits close, until their shoulders are plastered together.

"You're going to freeze to death," Nick says, low and sleepy. There's white fog coming out of his mouth, as if trying to prove his point.

Kurt shrugs, covering him just a little more with the blanket. "I don't mind the cold."

They stay silent for a while, enough that Nick curls his arm around Kurt's, and Kurt leans his head sideways and on Nick's shoulder without a second thought. Kurt's used to this kind of physical affection with Jeff, rather than Nick, but right now he can't think of anything better than Nick's strong shoulder under his cheek. Before he can stop himself, he's crying quietly.

"Blaine's devastated, you know?" Nick whispers against his hair. "I'm not saying you should forgive him or anything, but he's devastated."

Kurt stays silent, doesn't know what to say. He's still too hurt to think rationally about this, and he knows Nick won't take sides.

"You're going to be fine, Kurt," Nick continues, "With or without Blaine, you'll be fine. And we'll always be here." After a beat, he adds, "I actually challenge you to try and keep Jeff away."

Kurt laughs at that, small and bubbly among his tears. "No, thank you, I can't take on that avalanche."

He feels Nick smile against his hair, and he already feels a little better. Sides or no sides, he believes that he and Jeff are always going to be here.

"Thanks, Nick," he says.

"Always, Kurt."

* * *

The time before Christmas is long, cold and lonely. Kurt's entirely too used to that kind of feeling, though, so he gets through it as best as he knows how. He sees a lot of Rachel, even if these days she comes attached to a hunky sort of boyfriend named Brody that Kurt doesn't really know how to feel about. His free time he uses sketching, and as he walks around the city, he occasionally draws what he sees around him. He'll never be a painter, but he's in love with New York, and his mindless doodling takes him away from his own head.

Carole tells him to _come home for Christmas, sweetheart, we'll have a family reunion_, but Kurt wants to see New York in this time of the year, and he doesn't want to think of Blaine or Burt. Ohio feels like a trap, so he thanks Carole profusely and tells her to enjoy what little time she has with Finn during the holidays.

Kurt does go shopping, though, not just because he loves it but because he wants to send some gifts now that he has people to send them to. He buys something for everybody: Carole, Finn, Rachel, Jeff and Nick. He hates Hunter a little for being lost to the world to the point where Kurt can't even send a Christmas card.

During his last trip, he spies a lovely, soft black bowtie and thinks immediately of Blaine. They've been talking a little, trying to a least regain a semblance of their friendship, so Kurt buys it, even if he does so with a bit of a nostalgic feeling. On the same store, he falls in love with a too colorful tie that he buys for Sebastian on a whim. He thinks of Sebastian and his drab working clothes, so full of gray and black, so lacking everything that is Sebastian's personality, and suddenly can't bear the thought of him not having at least one item in his wardrobe with a little color. He guesses that if Sebastian can send gifts, then Kurt can send some of his own, too.

It is after that particular shopping trip that he comes home and notices a message left on his cell. He puts it on speaker phone and goes about his business, thinking surely that it will be Carole insisting once again that he get on a plane to Ohio. Instead, there's a male voice. It says:

"Hey kid, it's… it's Sebastian. Listen, I know it's short notice, but I'll be in New York for the holidays. Work stuff, you know? I was wondering… maybe you'll like to meet? Or not. Your call. I'll get there Christmas day, and I'll be… at some hotel. Damn. I'll get back to you on that. So… see you?"

* * *

Kurt agrees to meet Sebastian on Christmas afternoon for coffee. A small vengeful part of him had wanted to stay away from him, to be the one to put an end to this hot and cold relationship Sebastian is building around him, but in the end Sebastian's unsure voice and Kurt's honest desire to see him had quenched any sort of idea against seeing him.

Kurt enters the warm coffee shop and sees him almost immediately, sitting alone by a window, two cups of coffee in front of him. He stares for just a moment, glad that Sebastian's eyes are shadowed for the time being. He doesn't look any different, and Kurt isn't sure what he'd been expecting. It's been a little more than a year since they last saw each other, after all, even if it has felt like a lifetime to Kurt.

He walks towards him and Sebastian catches sight of him almost immediately. He lifts his head, smiles a tiny smile as Kurt sits down in front of him.

"Hi," Kurt says. It's shy and small.

"Hey," Sebastian counters, and honestly, Kurt was counting on him being the non-awkward one here. Sebastian simply passes him a coffee cup and says, "Here."

Kurt takes a small sip and looks at Sebastian again, spends some time on his tired features and his sagged shoulders. He looks older than he is, but not any less handsome than Kurt remembers him.

"So," Sebastian begins, and Kurt knows that there's a physical effort behind it, "New York, after all, how do you like it?"

Kurt shrugs a little, holds his coffee cup as if it was an anchor. "Anything is better than Ohio, I guess. But I love it."

"And you got into Parsons," Sebastian states.

"Yeah," Kurt smiles a little, tries to relax into the conversation. He's convinced himself that he can't have a decent, normal relationship with Sebastian, but maybe he can after all. "Yeah, I did."

As he relaxes, Sebastian seems to do the same. He leans back on his chair and his features soften as he points in Kurt's general direction. There's a smirk between his lips, and _God, _Kurt's _missed _him.

"So the whole crooked collar thing works around here?" Sebastian questions.

Kurt presses his hand to his shirt instinctively, smoothing his fingers around the collar. "We're not discussing fashion," Kurt says. After a beat, he continues, "You're over thirty and you're dressed like a frat boy."

Sebastian laughs, mirth filling his eyes and a grin taking over his lips. He immediately looks younger, like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, and Kurt can't help but smile, too. He takes a longer look at Sebastian, just because he can, and ends up focusing on his hands, one around his coffee cup and the other pressed to the table between them. They're nice, big hands, and Kurt thinks about them as they slid over some anonymous guy's skin, and then about them gliding over his own.

After taking a sip of his coffee cup – his arm flexing nicely, Kurt trying to ignore it – Sebastian coughs as if to clear his throat, and stares right into Kurt's eyes. "I heard about the thing with your boyfriend. I'm sorry."

Kurt doesn't move, doesn't know what to say. The last thing he wants to talk about with Sebastian is Blaine. Then, as he's starting to shake his head, a thought strikes him.

"How do you know about that?" he wonders. How does Sebastian even know he had a boyfriend in the first place? It's not like they've talked at all during the past year.

"Oh," Sebastian says, his lips curling around the letter, "I talk to Carole occasionally."

"You talk to Carole occasionally?" he wonders. Almost immediately, he snaps, "You _talk to Carole_ occasionally!"

"… Yes?"

"Yes!" Kurt snaps. "Of course you do."

Anger flares up in Kurt in a second, quickly replacing the easy, relaxing feelings that had settled over him not a minute ago. He can't believe this, he can't believe that he's been denied all forms of contact for over a year and that Sebastian has been keeping tabs on him through Carole. It's frustrating, annoying and such a Sebastian thing to do that he can't even be surprised.

He flails a little, his arms flying around him as if trying to find purchase. Then, suddenly and with a grunt, he stands up and stomps away from Sebastian and out of the coffee shop. He hears the barely there _Kurt!_ coming from Sebastian, along with his chair scraping the floor, but ignores both sounds in favor of throwing his little tantrum.

"Kurt, for Christ's sakes!" Sebastian yells at his back once they're outside. "Could you be less of a drama queen about this and talk to me?"

"Talk to you?" Kurt screams back. He turns around sharply, faces Sebastian's distraught features. He hates that all he wants to do is hug him, that he's all too ready to push the anger and everything else swimming inside him away. "You're the one that doesn't talk to me!" he accuses, though, ignoring his own contradicting feelings.

"I can't talk to you," Sebastian retorts, "I come all the way to New York to see you and two minutes in you're already yelling at me."

Kurt stops, breathes. He's never met anyone as infuriating as Sebastian, and wonders for a second if he's inherited any of his frustrating qualities.

"You said you came for work," he says.

"Crappiest excuse in the book, ok?" Sebastian replies. "I came to see you," he says as he looks down at the pavement, as if it was the worst of confessions, "Of course I came to see you. I didn't want you to spend Christmas alone."

Kurt deflates almost immediately, and brings his arms around himself. He feels defenseless against the amount of feeling Sebastian's words pack, and has the sudden urge to cry. His throat hurts with the effort of holding back the tears, and he presses his fingers even tighter around himself.

"You could have just said that," Kurt mumbles in Sebastian's general direction. He doesn't know if he wants to forgive his transgressions, if he wants to ignore the fact that he keeps pushing him away, but he's positive he just _can't _stop himself from doing it.

Before him, Sebastian sighs. He takes a step forward, and then another one when he's sure Kurt's not recoiling from him. When he touches Kurt's shoulders, his fingers settling slow but sure over him, Kurt breaks his stance and lurches forward, wrapping his own arms around Sebastian's waist. Sebastian hugs him back almost immediately, bringing his hands from his shoulders to his back and pulling Kurt close.

"You're such an idiot," Kurt murmurs against Sebastian's neck, "_Such _an idiot."

"Will you spend Christmas with me, anyway?" Sebastian asks.

Without meaning to, Kurt curls his fingers on the small of Sebastian's back, digging them in until he's sure it's painful. "You're already here, aren't you?" he says, "I bought you a stupid gift and everything."

The kiss Sebastian presses to his forehead lingers on his skin for days.

* * *

After disentangling themselves from each other, Kurt takes Sebastian to his place. He's a little embarrassed, because it's tiny and cramped, but at the same time he's kind of proud, just because it is exactly what he's always wanted. He spent his months in Seattle in a room that he refused to decorate, and sharing his space with Jeff back at Dalton had turned their dorm into a bipolar looking room. This place, though, is all him.

Sebastian looks uncomfortable, and Kurt is a little bit, too. They've never been all that good at sharing space, and outbursts aside, they haven't seen each other in a long while.

"We could order Chinese," Kurt suggests after a while. He turns towards Sebastian, sees him sitting down on his small couch and looking at his surroundings. He doesn't look as out of place as Kurt thought he would.

"Why didn't you go home for Christmas, Kurt? I'm sure Carole would have a decent dinner for you, and not Chinese take-out." Sebastian looks at him, green eyes half closed.

Kurt doesn't say anything, instead choosing to sit next to Sebastian. He keeps a prudential distance between them, but the space is not exactly big and he can feel the heat emanating from Sebastian. It's intoxicating, and Kurt wishes he could move a little closer and soak in the warmth.

"I have… contradicting feelings about Ohio," is what he says.

Next to him, Sebastian snorts. "Contradicting? You mean there's something to feel about Ohio other than boredom?"

Kurt smacks his arm, even as he's laughing a little. It's true, after all. Whatever attachment he has to the place comes from the people he met there, and with his dad gone and his relationship with Blaine on the rocks, he can hardly find the motivation to go back. Everybody else he knows has their own family to go to, and he'd rather stay in New York than intrude and feel uncomfortable.

"Let's do Chinese, kid," Sebastian says after a minute while exaggeratedly rubbing the arm Kurt has smacked.

Kurt purses his lips, and very seriously demands, "Don't call me kid."

"Sure thing, kid."

Kurt smacks Sebastian again, on the exact same spot. "So infuriating."

They order Chinese, though, and eat it while watching some corny Christmas movie that Sebastian mocks to no end. Later, when the night is fully dark outside and New York is all bright lights and big buildings, they exchange gifts. Kurt gets a copy of _Sense and Sensibility_, another old edition that he cradles against his chest with a smile curving his lips. Sebastian laughs at Kurt's choice of gift, but promises to wear the tie anyway.

"I know your choices of color usually happen in the scale of grays," Kurt tells him, "but it won't kill you to wear something brighter."

They say goodnight very late, and Kurt is tempted to ask Sebastian to stay the night. He doesn't, though, bites his tongue instead and only reaches out to touch his hand as a goodbye. Sebastian isn't leaving until the New Year, which gives them a few days together. Kurt enjoys a good sleep that night, long and dreamless.

* * *

New York with Sebastian is a whole different New York. Mainly, it's expensive New York, full of fancy restaurants of every kind and shows that Kurt's been dreaming about for months. He insists he doesn't need Sebastian to spend his money on him, Sebastian insists that he's the only person he has to spend it on. The statement is sad, a proof of Sebastian's own loneliness, of the reasons he had to cling to Kurt the same way Kurt had clung to him.

Kurt wants to feel free, to be elated about his time with Sebastian. He is, of course, but the underlying tension between them takes him from nervous to excited every second they're together. Their dynamic is strange, full of holding hands before they think about it and step away, of Sebastian's hand on his back and his lips pressing kisses to his forehead. Every night, Sebastian leaves Kurt's place as if afraid he might do something otherwise. And Kurt knows, he _knows _with every fiber of his being, that Sebastian wouldn't be sleeping on the couch if he ever stayed.

It's Sebastian who is torn about this the most. Kurt can see the way the green in his eyes darkens, only to be invaded by guilt. _He wants me, _Kurt thinks, _he's my father, he's had me, and he still wants me. _Kurt finds the thought exhilarating and forbidden, not as terrible as he should.

On New Year's Eve, Sebastian tells him:

"Let's do Times Square. It's your first New York Christmas, it's mandatory."

So they do Times Square, and as the end of the year approaches and the mass of people forces them closer, Sebastian presses his chest to Kurt's back and brings his arms around him, keeping him close. It's cold and crowded, but if Kurt closes his eyes, he can almost imagine this being just the two of them, sharing an anonymous life somewhere far, far away. When the countdown ends and everyone around them cheers, Kurt turns around inside Sebastian's embrace and kisses him. He presses his lips soft and yielding, dry from the cold, and Sebastian presses back, just for a second.

When they break apart, Kurt catches sight of Sebastian's eyes opening before him. They're green and beautiful and so unlike Kurt's own. Sebastian reaches up, soft expression clouding his features, and smooths his gloved hand over Kurt's cheek. Kurt had thought he'd be kissing Blaine this New Year, instead he can't bring himself to even think about him.

It's Sebastian who steps away first, but even as he does so, he grabs Kurt's hand and makes sure they don't lose each other in the crowd. They find their way back to Kurt's apartment, where Kurt announces that they're watching _The Breakfast Club._

"But _why?" _Sebastian whines. He looks young as he does so, almost carefree.

"It's our tradition," Kurt explains.

"Watching a movie that I despise is our tradition?" Sebastian wonders, even as he's settling comfortably on Kurt's couch.

Kurt shrugs as he joins him. "It's not the movie's fault you have no taste."

Sebastian scowls his way, and Kurt is marveled yet again about how comfortable they can be with each other. Underlying tension or not, they have an easiness about them that makes Kurt wish for impossible things. You can't be your father's boyfriend, after all, chemistry or not.

They watch the movie, and then they watch a few different ones until the sun is rising behind the windows. Kurt starts the night sitting away from Sebastian, the way they've been doing for days, but ends it plastered to his side, so close together they might as well be fused. When he notices Sebastian looking at him, he does his best at ignoring him. He wants to give in, he wants to crush Sebastian's walls and just _touch him_, but he knows if they do this now it will be deliberate and completely voluntary, devoid of circumstances and lies to tell themselves about their own loneliness. What they did back in Seattle they can justify with a million reasons, touching now would be proof that the only reason they have for it is wanting to.

When the sun is completely out, Sebastian stands up from the couch with a sigh and looks down at him. Kurt looks too, spends some time on Sebastian's hands, and then lets his eyes travel up his arms, over his tensed shoulders and across his neck before settling on his eyes.

"I should get going," Sebastian says, "I have a plane to catch."

Kurt nods, licks his lips. "I could go with you to the airport." It sounds almost like a question, and Kurt hates it. He's afraid he's going to lose Sebastian again, and he's not sure he can take it this time.

"We should just say goodbye, kid," Sebastian replies. He's looking down, at his hands and at the floor.

"And then what? Radio silence like all this time?" Kurt wants to sound angry, he does, but he only manages to sound sad.

Sebastian shakes his head, though, and says, "No, no more of that, I promise. I still want… I still want you to live your life away from me, but I will keep in touch, ok?" Kurt nods to this, even as he's listening to the _I_ in that sentence, like Kurt will not have a choice on when communication will happen. He can let it slip for now, can accept Sebastian's concession before asking for more.

"I'm still talking to Carole on occasion," Sebastian continues, "because I don't trust you when you say you're fine."

Kurt huffs, but says nothing.

Then, Sebastian motions towards him and says, "Come here, come on."

Kurt is reminded of a night more than a year ago, of Sebastian in the shadows asking him to go to him. Just like that night, Kurt doesn't even consider not doing as he's told. He stands up and goes towards Sebastian, gasping softly when his hands come up and cradle Kurt's cheeks. He's warm and soft, and that small touch makes Kurt close his eyes almost immediately. He mouths a quiet _oh _when he feels Sebastian's lips on his right eye, kissing the skin almost timidly, and lingering there for a long stretch of time. When he moves, he's still so close Kurt feels the air coming from his parted lips, the tip of his nose dragging against the skin of his forehead. Sebastian kisses his other eye just as softly, just as long, and when he steps away, Kurt moves forward, curling his hands on the lapel of Sebastian's shirt and bringing their lips together. He's pushing, always pushing, because he can't help himself. The kiss is soft and dry, no deeper than the one they shared to celebrate the New Year, but incredible nonetheless.

Not much later, Sebastian leaves his place with a whispered _goodbye, love._

* * *

The day after Sebastian leaves, Kurt cries.

* * *

Life goes on, the way Kurt has learnt it does. Rachel comes back from Ohio with a million stories about her dads and the sad feelings attached to seeing Finn. School starts, too, and Kurt dives into the classes with a new found energy, his fingers itching to get to work. He talks to Nick and Jeff, and occasionally to Blaine. He realizes it's not as painful anymore, and hopes that those particular wounds are starting to heal.

Sebastian starts calling once a week, and Kurt breathes better knowing what little Sebastian tells him about his life. Their conversations are stilted, full of awkwardness and pauses, and yet Kurt feels warmed because Sebastian's tone is nothing but sincere when he asks about his well-being.

Time moves quickly in New York, and before he knows it, Rachel is flying back to Ohio for Mr. Schuester's wedding. After a lot of begging on her part, Kurt agrees to join her. The wedding is a disaster, considering that the bride runs away, but Kurt is surprised about how glad he is of seeing Carole and Finn.

"You look good, sweetheart," Carole tells him when the three of them are sharing a small dinner back at her place. He thinks if he wasn't so screwed up, this would almost feel like home.

When Carole asks about his Christmas, he knows that she's aware of Sebastian's visit, but chooses not to comment on the matter. He's already thrown his tantrum about Sebastian's and Carole's secret conversations, and he can't bring himself to be unkind to her.

During his visit, he takes the time to surprise visit Nick and Jeff. The latter almost tackles him to the floor when he sees him, and then proceeds to talk non-stop about everything that's going on in their lives, even if they keep in touch enough that Kurt's already heard all the stories. It's when Jeff's talking and Nick's looking equal parts amused and adoring that Kurt realizes that these two are the real deal, that one day Kurt's going to go to their wedding and no one is going to run away. When he says his goodbyes, he hugs them both tight.

* * *

The day before he leaves, he meets Blaine for coffee. There's small talk and awkward smiles, but it's not entirely unpleasant.

"I'm thinking about New York for next year," Blaine says at some point during their conversation. Kurt's not surprised; they _had _talked about New York when they were together, after all, and Blaine had been genuine in his excitement about the city. "Maybe NYADA," Blaine continues, "I know it's a long shot, but it's one of my choices."

Without a second thought, Kurt reaches out and wraps his fingers around Blaine's hand. The touch is familiar enough that Blaine doesn't seem surprised by it.

"I'm sure you'll get in."

Blaine smiles at him, slow and tiny. He looks sad, his usual smile always being too big for this world. After looking at his joined hands, Blaine looks up and into Kurt's eyes, and says, "I miss you, Kurt."

Kurt doesn't take his hand away, but he's tempted. He doesn't want to talk about _them_, not when his life in New York is busy and strangely fulfilling, but still feels unfamiliar. He's doing his best at finding his own footing, and he can't deal with broken hearts right now. Still, the first words that come out of his mouth are:

"I miss you, too, Blaine." It's true, too, if maybe he doesn't miss them being together as much as he should. "But it's your senior year, and I'm still getting used to New York and I just… I just think we should take some time to be on our own, and to go back to being friends, and just… We'll see. With time."

Kurt bites his lip, unsure. The truth of the matter is that he's not sure if he's ever going to want to get back together with Blaine. He wants to be his friend, wants him in his life, but maybe not as his boyfriend. He's still unsettled by Sebastian, and he honestly can't handle so many feelings at the same time.

In front of him, Blaine is nodding, but his whole body language screams defeated. His shoulders are sagging forward as if holding an impossible weight, and his head is hanging low.

"Yeah, no, I get it," he says, "I just–Are you seeing anybody?"

This time Kurt does recoil and moves his hand away from Blaine's. He settles back on his chair and can't help but think of Sebastian, of his hands on his cheeks and hi warm breath traveling through his face. He thinks of his lips, because they're soft and wonderful and Kurt should have never tasted them in the first place.

"I'm not seeing anybody," he answers, "but I think it's very unfair of you to ask that."

Almost immediately, Blaine says, "I'm so sorry, Kurt, I'm sorry about–"

"Stop apologizing. I _know _you're sorry," Kurt says, "I just want us to be friends, good friends, and then we'll see about the rest."

Blaine nods yet again, looking back up at Kurt. "It doesn't bother you that I still want to go to New York, does it?"

"No, of course not. I'm glad. I'm always going to be happy to see you, no matter what, ok?"

"Ok."

The somber feeling of the conversation seems to stay with them, and when they say goodbye Blaine's smile is still sad. They hug, though, long and tight, and Kurt almost looses himself in the feeling of Blaine's tiny frame in his arms. If he could forgive him completely and forget about a pair of green eyes, his life would probably be a whole lot easier.

Kurt takes the plane back to New York with a heavy heart, and only when he reaches his destination, does he feel relieved.

* * *

At some point during March, Kurt strikes a couple of friendships within his school. They're in no way deep and meaningful, but Kurt is glad he has someone to have coffee with who he can talk fashion with for hours. It doesn't hurt either that people have stopped looking at him like he's contagious, and have actually said nice things about his sketches.

It is because of these friendships that the celebration of his birthday two months later ends up with him stuck in a horrid gay club full of colored lights and too loud music. He's never tried the club scene in New York, and right now, he's glad about that. There's writhing, muscled bodies everywhere, and he can't find it in himself to grind against unknown guys on the dance floor.

Two hours into the night, he's lost all of his acquaintances, including Rachel, who had escaped with Brody after a quick kiss to Kurt's cheek and a not entirely sober _have fun!_ Kurt guesses that at some point his classmates have given up on him dancing or drinking, and have simply decided to let him be. They don't know, of course, that he's wearing a brand new watch that Sebastian sent in the mail, instead of the visit he'd promised him not a month ago.

It takes him a while, but after wallowing in his own misery, he chooses to try and enjoy the situation he's stuck in, Sebastian be damned. He looks around and to the mass of bodies, letting his eyes glide from arms to legs to faces. It's much too dark, and there's entirely too many people to clearly study anybody, but Kurt tries to appreciate the beauty of hundreds of male bodies moving together. Considering that a couple of years ago he'd walked the hallways scared of being pushed around for being gay, he finds nothing wrong with enjoying the view.

When he finally decides to order a drink, he goes for something fruity and soft that tastes sweet against his tongue. Most of the alcohol he's tasted before has come either from Sebastian's lips or Hunter's secret stash, and it had been bitter and unsavory. He likes this, though, and leaning against the bar while drinking, he feels even more comfortable looking around.

He thinks of Taylor, a boy he barely has any memory of but that he'd once kissed in his desperation. He thinks of Blaine, the definition of what a first love is supposed to be. He doesn't think of Sebastian, refuses to do so. With those faces swirling inside his mind, he wonders if it would be that terrible to meet someone tonight, to hook up and enjoy himself. It's been a long time since Blaine, he's young, and he's allowed to be horny.

By the time he's finished his drink, he's looking at the crowd in a completely different light. The guy that ends up grabbing his attention is tall and dark-skinned, and is leaning against the barstool not too far away from him. His head is turned to the side, so Kurt can't see his full face, but the shape of his shoulders is lovely, and what little he can spy of his face shows him a fantastically plump set of lips. When the guy turns a little in his direction, Kurt blinks, and then he blinks again, because he's just spent a good five minutes checking out Hunter Clarington.

With a frustrated grunt, he throws his head back and walks towards Hunter, leaning on the bar next to him and shouting over the music, "Can I buy you a drink?"

Without fully looking at him, Hunter begins, "No, thanks, I'm–"

"Not even remotely bi-curios?" Kurt quips.

Hunter does look at him then, turning his eyes on him before a smile crosses his features, "Kurt," he says, and then, "Kurt!"

Hunter hugs him like a drowning man that's just found a lifesaver, digging his fingers into his shoulders and bringing him close. Kurt clutches back, is suddenly made aware of how much he's missed Hunter. They hug for a while, and even when they break apart, Kurt's hands stay on Hunter's arm, his fingers resting softly against the fabric of his shirt. Hunter's hands hover for a second before settling on Kurt's waist.

"What are you doing here?" Kurt asks. He has to lean close so Hunter can hear him, bring his mouth up until it's almost against Hunter's ear.

"Rebelling against the family," Hunter yells, bringing him almost imperceptibly closer and squeezing his fingers tighter on Kurt's waist. "Come on!" Hunter yells after, "Let's go somewhere where I can hear you!"

Hunter takes Kurt's hand to lead him through the crowd, and Kurt has to make a conscious effort not to think of Sebastian guiding him through Time's Square at New Year's. He focuses on Hunter instead, on his fingers and his strong grip, which doesn't leave him even when they find themselves outside. The cold air hits Kurt as soon as he steps away from the club, and he breathes in, relieved to get away from the clogged atmosphere of the club.

"I can't believe you're here," he tells to Hunter's back.

Hunter turns around to look at him, stepping into his personal space without a second thought. He wonders if he's drunk, but dismisses the idea when he notices that he only smells of cold and sweat.

"Well?" Kurt says. "Explain yourself."

Hunter raises an eyebrow, looks at him full of mirth.

"I don't hear from you in months and then I find you in a gay club in New York, Hunter Clarington, so don't you look at me like that. I hope for your own good that calling me was part of your plans."

"You are always part of my plans."

Kurt laughs, but can't help but feel that there's sincerity behind Hunter's tone. He wonders about that, about how easy it's always been between them when they are so socially awkward when it comes to everyone else. Kurt makes a decision in that second, and uses their still joined hands to pull Hunter towards the middle of the street.

"Let's get a cab," he says, "I'm taking you home."

"What, not even a drink first?"

Kurt throws him a look above his shoulder, even as he keeps his arm raised to hail a cab, and says, "You didn't want one, now did you?" After a beat, "And what's with the gay club, Hunt? Part of the rebelling against the family plan?"

"Maybe, I g–" Hunter interrupts his speech when a cab stops next to them. They climb into it, stumbling a little because they're apparently not letting go of each other. They fall inside close together, and even after rearranging themselves, Kurt notices that Hunter is occupying the middle of the seat, rather than the other side.

Kurt gives his address to the driver, and then looks at Hunter expectantly. "Well?"

"What?"

"New York, gay club, explain."

"Right," Hunter says, nodding and squeezing his hand. "I–huh–I enrolled at NYU, and I'm broadening my horizons? College freshman year, New York, time to experiment and all that, right?"

Kurt nods, and honestly, he's glad he's gotten even that short account of the events of Hunter's life. Communication has never been his forte, and he guesses one of the reasons they've always been good together is that they don't need to say too much to understand each other. Still, he punches Hunter's arm, _hard. _

"You've been here for months!"

Hunter shrugs, unapologetic. "Had things to deal with."

Kurt rolls his eyes exaggeratedly, making a show out of the movement. "Please be more cryptic, I dare you."

"You're giving me your mean look," Hunter tells him, "Stop giving me your mean look."

Kurt gives him his best _bitch, please_ look just for that, but when Hunter smiles, Kurt smiles back, and then next thing he knows, there's no space between them and Hunter is kissing him. Hunter's lips are full and cushiony, and Kurt can't help but push back against them.

"Hmm, sorry," Hunter murmurs, even while staying so close to Kurt's mouth that Kurt can feel the shape of his words against his lips, "Forgot about Blaine there for a second."

Kurt shakes his head. "No Blaine anymore."

Kurt wishes he could spy the expression on Hunter's face right now, but they're too close for him to make out any of his features. They stay like that for a minute, trapped in a strange standstill and breathing against each other's mouths. Their hands are still joined, their fingers intertwined. Hunter smells of sweat and feels warm, and Kurt wants to bring him close, put his arms on his shoulders and kiss him properly.

"Hunt, would it be weird if I kissed you?" Not that Hunter hadn't just kissed _him_, but… he has to ask.

Hunter smiles, and Kurt feels the movement against the skin of his lips, right at the corner of his mouth. Before he can do anything about that wicked smile, though, the cab stops abruptly, sending Kurt's shoulder against the back of the driver's seat. He glares at the driver, who gives him a mildly bored expression while mouthing a quantity. They pay and step outside, the cold air yet again well received after being in such a closed space.

"It wouldn't be weird," Hunter tells him once they're outside of the cab.

Kurt's walking towards the door of his apartment building, but turns around to look at Hunter. Hunter steps into his personal space, pushes until Kurt's back is against a wall and kisses him, full and wet this time. Kurt falls easily into it, grabs at Hunter's shoulders the way he'd been wanting to. He guesses he's always kind of had a thing for Hunter, after all.

Kurt moves his hands to Hunter's neck, presses his cold fingers there at the same time Hunter's hands wrap around his waist, so wide and big that Kurt thinks they could almost go all around him. Kissing Hunter is nice and hot, much more so when they haven't seen each other in months and Kurt has been lonely for a long while.

When they break apart, Kurt mumbles, "I think I have a thing for assholes who don't call me for months."

Hunter moves his face away, pushing his fingers to Kurt's jaw until he can look at him properly. "You ok?"

Kurt shrugs. There's honestly no point in comparing his relationship with Sebastian to what he has with Hunter, but right now, he feels the same kind of anger against both of them. Still, Hunter's here now, and if Kurt has any say in the matter, he's going to be around a lot more. He's also broad and tall and Kurt _trusts him, _and they really need to go back to the kissing before Kurt can work himself into a mournful state.

"Fine," he answers Hunter's question. "Can we go back to what we were doing?"

Hunter smiles at him, raises an infuriating eyebrow.

"What?" Kurt says. "I have to take advantage of you before you close your experimenting window and go back to being straight."

Hunter laughs into his mouth, and then they're kissing again. Hunter is not Blaine. He's not Blaine, or Taylor or Sebastian and Kurt's glad, because his mouth is wet and a little filthy but devoid of any sense of desperation. He drags him inside the apartment in between kisses, and by the time they hit the bed, they're both shirtless and Hunter's jeans are undone.

They both kneel on the bed, Kurt bringing one arm around Hunter's neck while the other one finds its way inside Hunter's boxers. Hunter's hands are bold themselves, not shying away from Kurt's male form at all, happy to roam and touch and explore.

"Kurt, Kurt," Hunter says against his mouth, "Naked, why aren't why naked?"

So they get naked, and then spend what feels like hours rolling around on the bed. At some point Hunter mouths _just this, is that ok, just this? _and Kurt nods frantically and clings to Hunter with a smile on his lips. They don't need to do everything, and it definitely doesn't take away from the enjoyment.

Hunter is built and strong, and Kurt spends a good fifteen minutes licking his hipbones because he's never seen something so attractive in his life and he just can't stop himself. He's responsive, too, moans loud with every touch, and louder when his hands settle tight on the small of Kurt's back and Kurt rolls his hips down.

"I know you said," Kurt tells him, words leaving hot puffs of air against Hunter's ear, "you said just this, but can I–can I ride you?"

Hunter's _fuck, yes _is a good confirmation that Kurt isn't pushing him into anything he doesn't want.

Kurt prepares himself using his fingers while Hunter looks on fascinated, his mouth parted and his cock thick and hard against his stomach. Kurt is fully exposed to Hunter's eyes, and he feels a little filthy. It's strange how he never did with Blaine, how they were always a little bit shy about this even after they've been together a few times. It's not that strange that filthy was exactly how he felt with Sebastian, with the way his green eyes had of roaming over his skin. Kurt hates that the thought of Sebastian – of Sebastian's _bed _– makes his breath hitch.

Kurt kisses Hunter hard before his mind starts to wander, invading his plump lips with a nervous tongue. When they break away, he climbs on Hunter's lap and sinks down slowly on his cock. It's been a very long time, and he's tight and unused to the feeling, but just the sight of Hunter under him, panting while keeping his hips still, sweat coating his forehead, lips red and raw, is enough to make Kurt remember just how awesome sex is.

It doesn't take long to set a slow pace, circling his hips in just the right way. Hunter yields to his wishes, pressing his spread fingers to Kurt's hips and moving with him. It's good, it's fantastic, and after too much time going slow, Kurt lets his head hung low and murmurs _Hunter, just fuck me. _Hunter does, hard and steady, and really, Kurt never thought he'd be so good at following instructions.

Hunter comes first, shouting loud and free and pressing his fingers so hard against Kurt's skin that he's pretty sure there's going to be a mark tomorrow. Before taking the time to relax, though, and without pulling out, he bends forward and takes hold of Kurt's cock. He strokes him hard and unforgiving, like a man on a mission. When Kurt comes, Hunter kisses him, swallowing his moan.

They don't say anything after that, too busy breathing fast and languidly moving around until they're lying side by side on their backs, looking up at the ceiling. It's getting cold, and Kurt should really clean up the mess they've made of themselves, but he's feeling too boneless to care right now.

After some minutes of silence, Hunter says, "I like your apartment."

Kurt laughs, and makes a weak effort at smacking Hunter that ends with the back of his hand resting against Hunter's chest. "You're an idiot," he says.

When Hunter looks at him, he's smiling.

* * *

They clean up and sleep for a while, but later they end up talking while sharing some of Kurt's leftover Chinese take-out. They eat on the bed, naked and barely covered by the sheets. It's proof of how relaxed Kurt is feeling that he's allowing this. Differences aside, this feels as easy as sharing a drink in Hunter's car had back at Dalton. The fact that Hunter's chest is on display, his hair is adorably rumpled and his lips still look abused is actually a bonus, as far as Kurt is concerned.

After they're finished eating, they lay back down, Hunter on his back and Kurt on his side, staring at Hunter's profile. It's very late, so Kurt speaks low almost out of instinct, as if wanting to respect the silence of the night.

Hunter prods the Blaine story out of him, along with some stories of his time in New York, the never-ending love tale of Jeff and Nick, and how The Warblers beat New Directions at Sectionals this year and are on their way to Nationals. When Kurt is tired of talking, he starts doing the prodding and getting Hunter to talk back.

"I'm majoring in photography," Hunter tells him. Kurt's not surprised, had heard the whispered confession of Hunter's secret passion from his own lips back in senior year. "My dad threw the biggest fit in the history of the family, and mom just looked like I wanted to murder her or something."

Kurt twists his lips, hates that some families are all about expectations and traditions. "What did they want you to do?"

"Law or medicine or something, I don't know." Hunter shrugs, as if he's above whatever his parents think. And he might be, in a way, but Kurt knows not having the support of his parents _has _to hurt. "My dad is like The Hulk when he gets angry, and he doesn't make a lot of sense."

"So you take after him, after all."

"Ok, that was _one _time, Kurt, _one time._"

Kurt smiles when Hunter looks at him with a pained expression. "Just remember that there's a barista in Ohio that you traumatized for life."

Hunter smacks him with a pillow, and Kurt squawks, surprised. He recovers quickly, wrestles the pillow out of Hunter's grasp and smacks him right back. Hunter laughs, but stops the fight by plopping back down on the bed. Kurt settles on his front, resting his face on his hands and looking at Hunter with a smile.

"Anyway, I got a full ride and a job, so."

"Ohh," Kurt says, "A rich boy making it on his own in the city. I bet you could make a movie out of it."

"I want Johnny Depp to play me. Or Robert Downey Jr.," Hunter deadpans, "It's the least I deserve for all my sufferings."

"But of course," Kurt agrees, nodding seriously.

Hunter shakes his head then, looking at the ceiling instead of at Kurt. "Nah, it's not that bad," he says, "My uncle's actually helping me out."

Kurt looks at him with his head tilted to the side, trying to keep the best view of Hunter's profile. "Plot twist," he says, "There's a good uncle?"

"Depends on who you ask," Hunter says, and when Kurt prods with nothing more than a raised eyebrow, Hunter continues, "He's kind of like the black sheep of the family. Crass, blunt, gay," Hunter explains, "rebellious youth, secret son hidden somewhere, the whole she-bang. I mean," Hunter's nodding as he's saying this, "I love uncle Seb, but his behavior doesn't really sit well with the Smythe family."

"The _Smythe _family?" Kurt parrots, because–because surely Hunter isn't talking about– "Clarington. Your last name," Kurt says, "_Clarington._"

"Yeeees," and now Hunter's looking at him like he's grown a second head, "uncle Seb is my mom's younger brother, Sebastian Smy–"

"God, Hunter, don't say it. Don't finish that."

"Kurt?"

Suddenly, Hunter's voice seems to come from very, very far away. Kurt moves away, stumbles clumsily out of the bed in a frantic search for clothes. He can't breathe. Hunter is talking in the background, he's probably worried because Kurt is freaking out, must be pale and doing his best effort at trying to breathe from his mouth. He fails to find clothes, and ends up sitting by the bed with his knees to his chest and his arms around them. He's crying, he can tell, but he can barely feel it, too overwhelmed to focus on anything.

The first conscious thing he feels are his sheets falling on his shoulders, covering him. He doesn't dare look up, but he knows Hunter must be kneeling in front of him.

"Kurt, Kurt come on," he hears Hunter say. His voice feels close this time, even if soft and careful. Kurt's mind is reeling, but Hunter just repeats his name over and over again.

"Hunt–"

"Oh thank God, I thought I had lost you there."

"Hunter, you're my _cousin_."

* * *

That night, he manages to mumble the full story to Hunter, who tries to cheer him up with _hey, you know us rich families, cousins sleep together all the time. _Kurt doesn't laugh. He can't, not when his life seems to be turning into this awfully ironic path he has no control over. Still, when Hunter asks if he should leave, Kurt clings to his arm and doesn't let go, knowing that being alone will be worse than anything right now.

They lie down together and fall asleep, exhausted.

* * *

Kurt doesn't see Hunter for a week after that. It's almost an unspoken pact between them, like they've decided to give each other some space over the issue before they meet again. Kurt is part angry and part sad, most of his feelings directed at Sebastian, and Hunter seems more awkward than anything. Right before leaving Kurt's place after that night, he'd managed to crack uncomfortable jokes along the lines of _homosexuality and incest at the same time, huh? I sure love the experimenting_, which had made Kurt flinch on the spot.

It takes Kurt two days to call Sebastian. He's been trying to calm down, to be rational about this, but rationality is honestly the last thing on his mind. When he finally calls, it's late at night in New York, and Kurt feels like he hasn't slept a wink for ages.

"Is everything ok, kid?" is what Sebastian answers the phone with. Kurt flinches, hates that he uses the term _kid, _as if separating their ages like that could nullify the tangled web that is their relationship.

Kurt yells at him. He yells because he's angry and frustrated, because Sebastian promised him visits that never happened, because he failed to mention that his nephew attended Dalton, because Kurt's slept with a grand total of three people in his life and two of them are related to him. Mostly, he yells because he regrets nothing, and surely something must be wrong with him.

When Sebastian tries to calm him with, "Kid, I–"

Kurt says, "_Dad._"

They stop there, neither one saying a thing and merely breathing into the phone. Kurt wishes he could see Sebastian, his bright green eyes that are always sad, the freckles that he knows are everywhere, his reddish lips and the tense line of his neck. Kurt's only called Sebastian _dad _once. It's easier not to acknowledge it, to leave it hanging between them like something they can almost ignore. Sebastian's not really a _dad _in anything that counts, they don't look alike and sometimes it doesn't even feel like they're family.

Sebastian doesn't say anything, so Kurt is the one that keeps talking.

"Sometimes I feel like you're the worst thing that's ever happened to me," he says.

He hears the change in Sebastian's breathing, and knows, without a doubt, that he's _hurt _him. He doesn't want that, but there's a sense of vengeance inside him that he can't stop, this little voice that says _you keep hurting me, so there_.

"Maybe you're right," Sebastian says on the other side. His voice sounds tired, defeated. "No, you're definitely right, princess. I don't even know why we bother."

And that's so like Sebastian, to dismiss and avoid like that will make the problems fade away. Kurt's pretty sure that Sebastian thinks that if he just ignores Kurt enough, he will disappear. And maybe, Kurt thinks, maybe that's what they both need right now.

"I need some time off," Kurt says. "From you," he clarifies. "I need to just not… just–"

"No, I understand," Sebastian counters, "Whatever you need, love." His voice is softer now, has lost its edge and is almost sweet around the word _love. _

They hang up almost at the same time, and when Kurt is listening to the line on his phone, he realizes that he misses him already.

* * *

"I bring coffee and muffins," is the first thing Hunter tells him when he shows up at his apartment a week later.

"Peace offering?" Kurt wonders.

Hunter nods, holding two cups and a brown bag in front of him. "Peace offering," he confirms.

"Bribery always works."

Later, when they find themselves in Kurt's kitchen and after they've gone through all the small talk they had in them, Hunter looks at Kurt from a pair of lowered eyes, the shiest he's ever looked.

"Do we need to talk about… you know?" He lifts one shoulder, as if wanting to dismiss the whole thing.

"Not really, I don't–" Kurt stops, rolls his shoulders back a little and searches Hunter's eyes. "Are we okay?" he asks.

"Yes, of course." Hunter's tone has no traces of doubt. "Are _you _ok?"

Kurt nods effusively, says, "Yes, yes, definitely. I'm sorry for freaking out on you."

He genuinely is, too. It would be entirely too hard to explain, though, that his near melt down had a lot more to do with Sebastian than with Hunter himself. Whatever the case, he doesn't want Hunter the way he wants Sebastian, and he knows they can easily laugh about this in the future and even keep it as a fond memory.

"It's fine," Hunter assures, "As long as you're fine."

"I'm fine," Kurt repeats.

"Good."

"Yes, good."

They laugh after that, because what else is there to do? And Kurt definitely needs more laughing in his life. When they're done, Hunter looks back down at his empty cup of coffee, and then looks up again, his eyes roaming Kurt's face as if trying to find something. After he's had enough, Kurt kicks him under the table.

"Ow, Kurt!"

Kurt gives Hunter the least apologetic look he can muster. "What are you looking at?" he asks.

Hunter takes his time to rub his kicked leg, going so far as to sticking his tongue out at Kurt before settling back on his chair. Once he's done with his show, he says, "You look nothing like uncle Seb."

Kurt snorts. "Trust me, I know." He does know, probably better than he should.

"Do you guys–I mean do you have any kind of relationship or something?"

Kurt slumps back after Hunter's question. He guesses this conversation was unavoidable, but he doesn't know exactly how much he wants to reveal. No matter what, it's not an easy thing to talk about.

"I lived with him for a while after my dad," Kurt chokes a little, clarifies with, "Burt, I mean, Burt Hummel, when he–" he stops, swallows. It doesn't get easier with time.

"You don't have to talk about that," Hunter nearly whispers.

Kurt nods, shoots Hunter a small smile. "Sebastian and I…" he lets the thought linger, then goes on. "We lived together for a while, before I went to Dalton. And we talk, sometimes. I saw him last Christmas and we–um, we–well, it's complicated. I _care _about him, though."

"Good," Hunter says. "That's good," he repeats. "He's not really that good with people, so."

"Understatement of the century," Kurt says. "Maybe it's _him _you take after." And God, but the thought is terrifying, because maybe Kurt has a _type_, and what does his type say about him?

Hunter shrugs, and then rests his cheek on his palm. "He _is _the only person in the family I actually like," he muses. "Well, I guess there's two now."

When Hunter smiles at him, Kurt can do nothing but smile back.

* * *

The end of the school year welcomes an entirely too warm summer to New York City. Kurt changes his drink of choice to ice coffee and his walking time to the evenings, and curses living in a tiny apartment with no air-conditioning. With school over and all his precious free time, he spends most of his days in Rachel's new apartment, a huge loft in the seedy part of Brooklyn with enough space that the air runs around freely when they open the windows.

This year, Rachel has managed to find her own place at NYADA, getting herself a small set of followers. Her on and off relationship with Brody had ended somewhere back in March – and Kurt had eaten enough ice-cream to cheer up two girls the size of Rachel – and putting her crazy, determined focus on her dream had paid off. Still, when dragging Hunter to Rachel's apartment more often than not ends with them dating, Kurt's not surprised. Hunter seems to balance out her crazy, except for when they both go into megalomaniac mode, when it's better to be quiet and let them get it out of their systems. She makes him smile a lot, though, and that's good enough for Kurt.

The summer also means graduation at Dalton. Jeff and Nick are both headed to California, and Blaine has gotten into NYADA, and is planning on spending his first year at a small apartment his parents have found for him.

"Oh, you're helping him move in?" Rachel asks, a glass of lemonade in one hand and using the other as a makeshift fan in a fruitless attempt at getting some cold air on her skin.

Kurt just shrugs. It's too hot to go through one of Rachel Berry's interrogations, and the truth is that he hasn't thought about Blaine in ages. They've kept in touch, of course, but Kurt is actually more concerned about who he isn't keeping in touch with. Sebastian's absence aches, and even if Kurt has convinced himself that this will be better in the long run, it doesn't make it hurt any less.

"Romance in New York, Kurt," Rachel says, "This could be the chance to get back what you had." She stops, then adds, "And we could double date."

"Oh, yes," Kurt deadpans, "Everything I do, I do so I can double date you two."

"Well, you should," Hunter says. He's sitting in between Kurt and Rachel, completely unfazed at the heat while keeping his hand buried in his cat's fur. "We're fabulous company," he assures.

Next to him, Rachel nods vigorously, and Kurt smacks Hunter's arm half-heartedly. It's still hard to think of him as his cousin, to think that if he and Rachel marry one day, they will all be related. Even more, they will all be related to Sebastian. Kurt recoils from that thought, hugs himself thinking that Sebastian is his, and not someone to share.

"So?" Rachel prods. When Kurt looks at her with a raised eyebrow, she says, "Are you getting back together with Blaine?"

"I don't know, Rach, I don't know if we should. I don't know if we _want to._" It's true, too. His relationship with Blaine had been dreamy and had given him the hope of escaping his twisted feelings for Sebastian, but now it feels very far away. "I haven't even seen him since February."

"Don't worry, Kurt," Rachel assures, "it's summer in New York, it's the time for looove."

"You're completely ridiculous, Rachel Berry."

* * *

Funny thing is, maybe summer in New York _is _the time for love. Seeing Blaine again after so long and in a constant basis feels like a breath of fresh air for Kurt. Blaine has no connections to his family, he's almost always happy, naïve in his attitude towards life, and overly excited about starting his new life in the city. Kurt absorbs his excitement like a sponge, loving how alive Blaine always is.

Blaine doesn't know anyone else in the city, and with Hunter and Rachel being an item now, Kurt spends a lot of time alone with him, dragging him around to every place he must see before he's swamped up in college life. It feels like dating, and when Blaine grasps his hand with the excuse of not getting lost among the crowd, Kurt doesn't shy away from it.

"Let's go to Central Park!" Blaine exclaims. "I've been told it's beautiful at night."

Kurt pulls from their joined hands, slows Blaine down. "I'm exhausted," he complains. "Aren't you tired?"

They've been walking around all day, and they've been doing the same thing for the past week. Kurt's pretty sure that this is even worse than the weekend Jeff and Nick visited. Blaine, though, eternal smile plastered on his lips, merely turns around and reaches for Kurt's second hand. He twines their fingers together, pulls forward so they're half walking and half dancing in the direction of Central Park.

"It's New York and I'm with you," Blaine says, "I'll never get tired."

The warmth in Blaine's tone makes Kurt smile. They haven't talked about _them, _about the possibilities of a second chance, but Kurt knows the thought is there, and the sparkles are in the air. Most of the time, Kurt's undecided about what he wants, but right now, faced with Blaine's unadulterated enthusiasm, he can't come up with a reason to stop this from happening.

"Let's go to Central Park, Blaine," he says.

It's almost midnight, and the park is illuminated by the low glow of barely there lights. As they walk, hand in hand, Kurt spies a small pinkish blush on Blaine's cheeks, the promise of something new etched on his tiny smile. Kurt thinks they could do this, and he nearly closes his eyes just to imagine a possible future for both of them. Blaine cheated once, sure, and Kurt can conjure up the pain from that betrayal easily, but he could let it go in exchange for new hope. They could easily fall in love all over again, with the city as their witness, and build a life with each other. They could get married, have children, be alive and together. At this moment, Kurt sees no problem with that plan.

"Blaine," he calls, soft and lingering, as if afraid of disturbing the peace around them.

Blaine turns towards him, licks his lips as he steps a little into Kurt's personal space. Everything he once loved about Blaine is still there, Kurt thinks as he reaches out, pressing the pads of his fingers ever so softly to Blaine's cheek. The skin is soft and warm, and moves under his hand when Blaine smiles. Kurt breathes in slowly, takes a step forward. He wonders if they should talk about this first, but the shine on Blaine's eyes is so welcoming that Kurt has to dismiss the thought immediately.

In the end, Blaine is the one to kiss him. He doesn't step forward, so their only points of contact are Kurt's hand on Blaine's cheek and their lips, wet and soft in their pressure. Kurt thinks he could live in this moment forever. After they move away, Kurt steps forward so he can feel Blaine's heat against all of his body, press him closer and wrap him in his arms. When they're moving together for a second kiss, Kurt's cell phone starts ringing, effectively breaking the moment.

"Do you–" Blaine starts, "Do you have to get that?"

Kurt's already moving his hand when he says, "It's very late, I–"

"Sure, yes."

Kurt puts the phone to his ear, mouths a soft, "Hello?"

"Kurt, it's Hunter," says the voice on the other side. Kurt wants to be angry at him for interrupting him, but it's late and Hunter never calls unless it's important. "Listen, don't get scared or anything, but–"

"Hunter, are you alright?" Is the first thing that comes to mind, that Hunter is somehow stuck in some awful situation he can't get out of.

"Me? Oh, yeah, yeah," Hunter assures, "It's uncle Seb, actually. He was in some kind of car accident? Nothing too bad, I think. They're keeping him overnight at the hospital but that's it, I mean, he's probably just a bit banged up, really. I just… I thought you should know?"

"_Oh. _Yes, I–Thanks, Hunt. Thanks, I–Thanks."

When Kurt hangs up, he looks at Blaine. He notices for the first time that he's walked away from him, almost three full steps, as if he had just built an invisible barrier between them.

"I," he says, unsure. He hasn't really made up his mind, but the words that come out of his mouth next sound sure and confident, "I have to go to Seattle."

* * *

Kurt arrives at Seattle after a full night of waiting at the airport and nearly four hours in a plane. He's tired but jittery, and he doesn't know if he wants to lie down and sleep for a month or to jump up and down. He's been tense for hours, arguing with himself about his impulsive decision to jump on a plane and leave Blaine hanging with a distracted _we'll talk when I get back _and a kiss to the cheek. He's sure Sebastian is just fine, if Hunter is to be believed, so he can't understand the way his heart seems to want to get out of his ribcage when he replays the words _he was in some kind of car accident._

He takes a cab to Sebastian's apartment, and on the ride there, opens the window and breathes. His eyes scan the familiar places around him. It feels like coming back to a fairytale, to this place that has nothing of what his life is now but that is full of strange memories that he doesn't want to ever forget. By the time he's ringing the doorbell, his finger trembling slightly, he's filled with a sense of déjà vu. He's carrying one small haphazardly packed suitcase and his satchel, and his free hand is nervously torturing the strap. When the door starts to open, he holds his breath, only to let it go when the person he finds behind it it's not Sebastian, but a tall woman. He blinks at her, looks up into her dark eyes.

Her lips are twisted in an unwelcoming expression when she asks, "Yes?"

"Oh, hi," Kurt says, feeling dumbfounded and stupid, "I'm Kurt, I came to see Sebastian?" He hates that it comes out as a question.

The woman says nothing, merely giving him a once over. He feels exposed in the worst way, but even through the tiredness and confusion, he manages to hold his head high and give an exploring look of his own. The woman is older than Sebastian, maybe by six or seven years, her skin is a little bit dark and her brown hair is held in a high, tight bun. Everything about her body language is tense and hostile, from her long neck to her thin fingers. She looks somehow familiar, but Kurt can't quite put his finger on why.

"He's not really in a state for visits," she says finally. It's dismissive and quick.

Kurt says, "I know, that's why I'm here." When the woman looks pointedly at him, as if expecting an explanation, he says, "I'm Kurt. Kurt Hummel," he clarifies, wondering if he should fight his reticence and spell exactly who he is. _I'm Sebastian's son, _but the words die on his tongue.

Fortunately, the name seems to spark recognition in the woman, who gives him a second once-over before motioning for him to come inside. This welcome is not that different from the one he got the first time, Kurt muses as he steps insides, closes the door behind him, and abandons his suitcase by the door to make his way inside the apartment.

He finds Sebastian in the living room, wearing a pair of sweat pants and an old t-shirt, with the glasses that Kurt has seen him reject more than once awkwardly perched on his nose, and his hair in complete disarray. Kurt's never seen something so scary and enticing at the same time. Sebastian sees him almost immediately, and when he does, he exclaims:

"Kurt!" He gets up in a quick motion, and Kurt doesn't miss the flinch that comes with the movement. "Kurt, you're here. Why are you here?"

Instead of answering, Kurt just steps forward, and Sebastian meets him in the middle. Sebastian wraps his long arms around him, resting them on his shoulders at the same time he rests his weight on Kurt. He smells nice, freshly showered and sleepy soft, and Kurt breathes him in, because the scent feels like coming home.

"I'm so happy that you're here," Sebastian whispers against his ear.

Kurt laughs, small and happy, and asks, "Are you high?"

Sebastian nods vigorously against him. "They gave me these _awesome _blue pills."

Kurt fights the instinct to roll his eyes, and instead tries to move to look at Sebastian. It's difficult with Sebastian clutching him in this way they both have, where they dig their fingers in and hold on, as if the other one is going to run away the moment they stop. He manages to free an arm and snakes it up to press against Sebastian's jaw, his thumb catching the rough skin on the side of his face, which is covered in small shallow cuts. The area around his right eye looks yellowish, and if the way he's holding himself is any indication, the skin under his shirt must be a mess.

"What did you do to yourself?" Kurt asks.

The person that answers is not Sebastian, but the woman that has silently been watching their whole exchange. "Drive his car while stupidly drunk." Her tone is full of reproach, as if scolding a child, and Sebastian flinches from his place between Kurt's arms.

"It sounds awful when you put it like that," he says, and with a sigh, turns to look at the woman. "Kurt, this is my sister Cassandra. Cassie, this is Kurt."

She nods, and Kurt does too. This is Hunter's mom, then, and now that he knows it, it's easy to make the connection. The darkness of her skin and the upturn of her lip are just like Hunter's.

"Kurt Hummel, yes," she says, "I've been informed. It escapes me why he's here, though." When Sebastian starts to protest, she stops him with a lifted finger and a severe, "But, since he's here already, he can make sure you don't kill yourself with your own idiocy, and I can go to work."

"Right," Sebastian says.

"I'll come by tomorrow." After a beat, she finishes with, "I'll show myself out."

"So, that was your lovely aunt," Sebastian says once they hear the door close.

Kurt says nothing, choosing instead to help Sebastian sit back down on the couch. He falls like a heavy weight, murmuring a low _oomph_ when Kurt follows and plasters himself to his side. He crowds into Sebastian's space, resting his face against his neck and feeling the warm skin there tantalizingly close to his mouth. He breathes in, and only then does he allow himself to relax.

"Are you ok?" Kurt asks, soft, almost timid. He's just jumped on a plane to see this man, and the adrenaline is suddenly leaving all of his body, making him sleepy.

"I've been worse," Sebastian answers, "just a little banged up." His voice is a near murmur, too, small against the skin of Kurt's forehead where Sebastian is almost leaning his lips. "You look tired."

"It's been a long night," Kurt answers, thinking of the airport and the plane and the nerves and how worried sick he'd been.

Sebastian reaches up, touches his fingertips to his cheek and lets them slide down until his palm is pressed against the side of Kurt's neck. "You're crazy," he says, and then pushes the smallest kiss ever just above his right eyebrow.

They stay like that for some time, until Sebastian nudges him, takes his hand with his own and makes him stand up. Kurt's nearly asleep by then, and simply follows Sebastian to his bedroom, where he's given a t-shirt and sweatpants. He pulls his clothes off with heavy movements, watching Sebastian take off his glasses and open up the bed for them. Kurt has memories attached to this bedroom, memories of big hands and wet mouths, of freckled expanses of skin, but right now, all he can think about are the slightly large clothes he's wearing that smell of Sebastian's fabric softener.

He gets inside the bed after Sebastian closes the blinds, hiding the room in darkness and keeping the glaring sun away. Sebastian climbs in after him, moves and turns until his chest is pressed to Kurt's back, his hand splayed on Kurt's stomach and his legs tangled with Kurt's under the blankets. Kurt feels like he hasn't rested properly in years, and that he's finally allowed to do so. With Sebastian's heavy breathing on the back of his neck, he falls asleep.

* * *

Next morning, Kurt wakes up to an empty bed. It's still warm, though, and he steals some time just burrowing closer to the heat and to the lingering smell on the linens. Once he fights the laziness and kicks the sheets away, he pads slowly into the living-room, where he finds Sebastian hanging up the phone and carding his free hand through his hair.

"Everything ok?" Kurt asks. He lingers under the frame of the door to the room, swaying back and forth almost unconsciously. There are five full steps between him and Sebastian, and he knows because he counted the last time they found themselves in these positions.

Sebastian gives him a pointed look, as if he's thinking of that same night, of growling directions at Kurt and Kurt going to him as if he didn't have a choice in the matter.

"Just," he says, dropping his shoulders and flinging himself back on the couch, "Family stuff."

Kurt nods, takes a step into the room and breathes in. "You never really talk about your family," he says, "Neither does Hunter."

"There's not much to say, is there?" Sebastian lets the sentence linger in the air between them, makes it clear with his closed off body language that the Smythe family is not a topic that's up for discussion. In any other circumstance, Kurt may have pushed and prodded for answers, but he's still sleepy and he hasn't seen Sebastian in months, so he wants to keep the peace between them.

Sebastian's face looks yellower than he'd thought yesterday, and everything about his slumped position on the couch screams tiredness. Kurt feels a pang in his chest when staring at him, the silly and sudden urge to wrap himself around him and never let go.

"I'm going to take a shower," he says finally, looking down and away, "I'll make us some breakfast after, ok?"

"I could make breakfast," Sebastian answers. He's trying to stretch his arms now, and just lifting them is making him hiss in pain.

Kurt shakes his head. "You shouldn't move. Also, I've seen you cook, and I think it's better for everybody if you stay away from the kitchen."

"I resent that, I'm a fantastic cook," Sebastian tells him, mock offended hand going to his chest.

Kurt smiles at him, thrives on the easy banter they developed at some point during Kurt's say in Seattle. "You're really, _really _not. Unless you count burnt toast as a specialty."

"Yes, well, not all of us can be little housewives like you."

Kurt realizes that when they had first met, he would have been offended by that comment. Now, though, all he does is stick his tongue out at Sebastian before walking away from him and into the bathroom, relishing the softness between them.

* * *

Domesticity comes easy to them, and in the week that Kurt is planning on staying in Seattle, they fall back into the routine they had during their short period of life together. Sebastian's taken the time off from his work, and whenever he isn't too loopy from the painkillers he's taking, he catches up on his reading. Kurt reads a lot too, and they share space and silences. They've never been the best at talking anyway, and there's the simplest of comforts in having the other in the same room.

Kurt drags Sebastian outside for short walks in the mornings. He's still in pain, but not so much that fresh air and a bit of exercise isn't good for him, and Kurt loves sharing his favorite paths with Sebastian. In the evenings, they watch movies, and always argue about the other one's choices.

Sebastian makes a point of keeping a physical separation between them, always sitting far enough from Kurt so that there's a distance, but close enough that it doesn't look forced. They both know what he's doing, but Kurt doesn't force the issue, and doesn't ask. Whatever the case, they share Sebastian's bed at night, and they sleep tangled together and curled around each other under the light sheets. They silently agree not to question this, either.

On his second night there, after they've settled under the covers and the bedroom is fully dark, Sebastian begins talking. Softly, almost whispering, he tells Kurt about his sister losing her rebellious spirit and marrying Hunter's dad, about her eyes filling with disapproval when looking Sebastian's way. He talks about studying law in a futile attempt at pleasing his father, when he knows there's no way in the world he's ever going to be the good son. He talks about losing faith, about his rebellious teenage years, and for the first time ever, he talks about Kurt's mom. He barely remembers her, not as much as Kurt does anyway, but his memories are fond, like that of a man lost at sea that had found a little hope.

Somehow, Kurt finds himself repaying the favor. He talks about his dad, about the scars his absence left behind and that never seem to fully heal. He talks about the bullying, and about the safe haven that Dalton had become. He spends hours on stories about Jeff and Nick, and talks about Blaine, about loving him and being hurt by him. He talks about Hunter and Rachel and Carole and Finn, finds himself discovering that all of these people have become a little makeshift family for him.

They never talk about what they did, what they are, what they should be.

* * *

On his last day there, Kurt picks up one of Blaine's calls, which he has been pointedly ignoring all this time. He knows he left unfinished business with him, but he can't bear to think about possibilities with Blaine when he's living with Sebastian. Still, he picks up, assures Blaine that everything is alright and tells him when he's coming back.

"Boyfriend?" Sebastian asks when he hangs up. He doesn't even look up from the opened book he has on his lap, feigning nonchalance.

"Ex-boyfriend," Kurt clarifies.

There's a long stretch of silence before Sebastian speaks again. "But you said you were getting back together," he says.

"Maybe," Kurt points out, quick and almost offended, "I said maybe. I'm not really sure what I want."

Sebastian looks up this time, his lips pursed and a near frown between his eyes. "I thought you still loved him."

Kurt shrugs, and as he does so, he can feel the tension building between them, that same kind of cutting feeling that had made living with Sebastian almost unbearable at times.

"It's hard not to love Blaine," Kurt tells him. He's not exactly sure what Sebastian wants from him. "What's it to you, anyway?" It comes out involuntarily harsh, and it makes Sebastian's eyes slither down until they're nothing but a thin line.

"I guess nothing at all." Sebastian's tone is tense and unforgiving, as if Kurt had somehow offended him. Kurt remembers this tone, knows that it's Sebastian being unfairly jealous when he has no right to such a thing, and it infuriates Kurt in the worst of ways.

This is Sebastian calling the shots again, disappearing and appearing as he sees fit, having commentary on his life after making every effort to stay away from it. Kurt should yell at him for being such an utter asshole. Instead, he sits heavily next to him, reaches out to grasp his face between his hands and kisses him, his lips hard as they push against Sebastian's.

Sebastian moves away almost immediately, murmurs, "Kurt…" His breath touches Kurt's wet lips.

Kurt doesn't let him get away, tough, and counters with a firm, "No."

He kisses him again, and Sebastian makes a strangled sound before letting it happen. He presses back, pushes and pushes with parted lips until Kurt opens his mouth to him, lets him in. It's desperate, the way it always is between them, but mostly it's full of longing, of months of absence and repressed desire. Kurt's fingers curl on Sebastian's face, cradle his cheeks in an unforgiving grip. Sebastian moves his hands to Kurt's waist, lets his fingers grasp the material of Kurt's shirt and scrunch it between them. They fall into each other, tongues and teeth and panting breaths that they eat out of each other's mouth. Kurt feels warm, almost feverish, every point of contact between them feeling like a lit fire on his skin.

Sebastian breaks away abruptly, his escaping lips smacking together. He stands up almost immediately, putting distance between them, taking his hands and his warmth away from Kurt. Kurt is left drifting alone, feeling hazy and abandoned.

"Kurt, we _can't _do this," Sebastian says, vehemently. Kurt looks at him, at the way he's clearly trying to pull himself together.

Kurt bites his lower lip, feels the raw, tender flesh give under his teeth. "I don't see why not," he murmurs.

"We've talked about this already," Sebastian tells him, and with a quick movement turns around, gives Kurt his back and makes as if to leave the room. He can't hide from Kurt, though, who notices the tension on his shoulders and the way his hands turn into fists at his sides.

"You've talked about it!" Kurt yells at Sebastian's back. "I never had a choice. You never gave me one."

"A choice to _what, _Kurt?"

When Sebastian turns back around, Kurt stands up, crowds his space, forces their eyes to meet. Sebastian's lips look used, and his eyes wild and frustrated, like they're trying to beg Kurt to let him be.

"To be," Kurt begins saying, "to be–"

"To be _what_, love?"

"_Something."_ Kurt's tone is soft, tired, and he knows he's given up. He doesn't even know why he tries, why he pushes and pushes for some undetermined resolution to this ever present puzzle that is their relationship. Still, he talks, says whatever comes to mind, feels his desires take shape in his words. "You hate it here. Your job and your life and your family. You could come with me to New York. _Be _with me. Just that, Sebastian. Just be with me."

"Think about what you're asking," Sebastian tells him. He steps forward until their chests are almost touching, and then presses both hands to Kurt's shoulders. The touch is light but firm, and it both grounds Kurt and stops him from moving any closer. "Think about it," Sebastian repeats. "Everything you'd lose, the possibilities."

"_What _possibilities?" Kurt demands.

"Marriage, children, a _life, _Kurt. What would your friends think, huh? What would you tell Hunter? How would you walk with your stubborn head held so high with guilt welcoming you home?"

"It's not–I don't know if I want those things!" Kurt protests. "And I don't care what anyone else thinks. They wouldn't even have to know."

"But we would, love. We always would."

Kurt knows he's been defeated, has no real arguments to fight for this made up life that he just invented for him and Sebastian. He reaches out and fists his hands on Sebastian's shirt. Then, he leans forward until his forehead rests on Sebastian's shoulder and breathes out slowly when Sebastian wraps his arms around his waist in a loose hug. They stay there, still, not moving closer, and not moving farther away.

* * *

Sebastian takes him to the airport the next day, and Kurt says goodbye to him with a sense of déjà vu in his gut. Sebastian's face still bears the marks of the accident, and Kurt wants to stay and take care of him, to hold on for dear life. He only clutches Sebastian tight in a crushing hug, tells him to call and not to get into stupid accidents. This time, when he walks away, he looks back at Sebastian's lonely figure waving him goodbye.

* * *

This time, when Kurt cries over Sebastian yet again, he does it after he's back in New York, and after he's found himself a cozy place between Hunter's arms. Rachel tells him to stop putting the moves on her boyfriend, and he only burrows closer to Hunter and tells her that he was Kurt's first.

* * *

He puts off seeing Blaine two full days, claiming tiredness and any other excuse he can come up with. He can hear the disappointed tone in Blaine's tone through the phone, knows that he interrupted their Disney movie date to jump on a plane for a man that Blaine knows Kurt feels ambiguous about. Sometimes, he wishes he could explain Blaine the complicated mess that him and Sebastian are, that he could make him understand how no matter the fights, the uncertainty, the wrongness of it all, Kurt's always going to jump on that plane.

The realization takes him by surprise. He thinks of that subconscious loyalty he's built towards Sebastian, towards the little shreds of a relationship they have between them. He wonders, briefly, if Sebastian would jump on the plane for him.

When he finally sees Blaine, they meet at his apartment, and before Kurt even thinks about what he's doing, he kisses Blaine. He kisses him soft but determined, almost like a man on a mission. Blaine squeaks in surprise, but soon enough goes with it, guiding Kurt to the couch and straddling his legs with ease. Kurt sighs into it, relishes the feeling of Blaine's hands on his neck. He searches for Blaine's skin, lifts his shirt and tucks his hand against the small of his back, where it's warm and familiar.

It's a different familiar than Sebastian, warmer, softer and more naïve, the memories of shy exploration, flushed cheeks and silly laughter. It's more of a fantasy, Kurt thinks, somehow manages to feel less solid than Sebastian's hands on his waist, squeezing and twisting and speaking of pure, unbridled want.

Kurt breaks away from Blaine with a gasp, and pushes himself apart from him as if burnt.

"Kurt, what–"

"Oh my God, Blaine, I'm so sorry."

Kurt's thinking of being sixteen, lonely and confused, he's thinking of kissing Taylor to avoid thinking of Sebastian, and he knows he's doing the exact same thing here. And he can't do that to Blaine.

"Kurt, it's ok."

Kurt shakes his head, sits down on a chair away from Blaine and covers his face with his hands. "It's really, really not."

After a beat of silence, Blaine's fast breathing is the only sound in the room, and Kurt looks up. He looks at Blaine, blushing, his hair in disarray and his lips abused. He looks beautiful, and like everything Kurt should want, but he's not, and Kurt can't use him like this. Not Blaine, who for all practical purposes is his first love, who is always going to be important to Kurt no matter what.

"Blaine, I can't do this," he says. He swallows, slowly, and repeats, "I can't do this, and I am so sorry I lead you on like this, but I can't."

Blaine looks down, dejected, and Kurt can tell that he's trying to stop the tears by the way his jaw is tensing. "Is this–Kurt, is this about the cheating? Because I–"

"No, God Blaine, no." Kurt scoffs, thinks about joining Blaine back on the couch to reassure him, but ends up dismissing the idea. "That's in the past, I promise, I just… There's some things I–I just can't explain it."

"Is there someone else?"

Kurt shakes his head immediately, says, "No, there isn´t."

_There is, _a silent voice in his head supplies. But not really, not where it counts, right?

There's a long silence, so long that Kurt thinks they may never find the way to fill it. Blaine's just looking down, as if he's lost all of his energy, and Kurt's despairing inside, hating his own traitorous emotions that won't let him choose the handsome, nice boy that still loves him.

Finally, Blaine is the one to speak. He doesn't look up, but his voice is clear when he says, "I could wait for you. I _will _wait for you."

"Blaine." Kurt's voice is soft and its edges are surrounded by the tears welling up in his eyes. His heart is breaking, and he doesn't know if it's doing so for the boy in front of him, or for his own desperation so accurately echoed in Blaine's words.

"I will," Blaine repeats.

"Blaine, please," Kurt says, knows he's begging. "You need to forget, and to move on. I don't know if I'm ever going to–I truly don't think that I will–"

"God, don't say it, Kurt. If that's your answer, please don't say it."

It feels like years pass before Blaine gets up, picks up his discarded jacket and walks by Kurt's side and towards the door. Kurt stops him with a soft grip on his wrist, merely two fingers against the warm skin on the inside of his arm.

"I want us to be friends," Kurt says. He doesn't know if he has the right to ask this of Blaine, but he has to ask.

Blaine nods, but he isn't looking at him. "I need some space, I think."

"Sure, yes, whatever you need."

Kurt drops Blaine's wrist, and Blaine steps away from the apartment. It feels like Kurt has just let go of him definitely, and like he's let go of any shreds of sanity he had left.

* * *

School starts and Kurt finds himself impossibly busy yet again. He hasn't seen much of Blaine for the rest of the summer, and he's guilty for feeling relieved at not having to deal with that particular side of his life right now. Despite that, he takes on the new school year with a newfound energy. He's done with the basic, general courses and now he gets to truly delve into fashion design. He does it with passion, realizes that at least in this part of his life, he knows what he wants.

He thinks of Sebastian. He thinks about him a lot, even if they're back to talking regularly at least once a week, and even if he's a common subject in his conversations with Hunter. He finds himself wondering what Sebastian would have done with his life if he hadn't followed his father's wishes, if maybe he would have been happier, or at least if he wouldn't look like the world is a heavy weight on his shoulders.

At some point in September, he starts mentioning to him the possibility of seeing each other for Thanksgivings, but Sebastian shuts down that idea quickly, making up excuses and being infuriating and obtuse. Kurt can't help but hate him a little for constantly pushing him away.

"He's infuriating," he tells Hunter one evening. They're sharing a cup of coffee in some tiny place close to NYADA, waiting for Rachel and Blaine to come meet them.

"Uncle Seb?" Hunter says, shrugging. "Totally. Is this news to you?"

"No, but I just need to say it, and you know what I'm talking about." Kurt takes a sip of his drink, realizes that it's gone cold already and grimaces. "I mean, all I'm asking for is Thanksgivings."

Hunter puts his hands on top of his own empty cup and places his chin on top. He looks at Kurt for a second, and then says, "But then he'd miss the big family dinner, and we can't have that, now can we?"

Kurt frowns, tries to catch Hunter's eyes but they're looking away, disconnected, as if Hunter is somewhere else. "Are you going?" he asks. He doesn't know if he's envious or if he's grateful for the fact that he's persona non grata around the Smythe clan.

"I don't know." He shrugs, sits back against the chair and tries to look like it doesn't matter to him anyway. It's a look he's seen in Sebastian before, and Hunter hasn't quite mastered it in the same way. "I've been told I will be forgiven for my stubbornness and allowed to attend, but I'm not sure I want to put up with the talks about how there's still time to fix my mistakes. Still, you know."

Kurt knows. He's heard the silent _it's still my family _in Sebastian's voice a gazillion times.

"I guess I could go for moral support," Hunter continues. "I heard grandpa is taking some big name guy that he intends to marry uncle Seb to, and I do love a good train wreck."

"People do that?" Kurt wonders. "Marry the guy with the good name?"

"Well, yes. I mean, it's totally cool to be gay as long as you marry the right person."

Kurt takes another sip of his cold coffee just to have something to do. He hates that he's somehow related to all of this, that he could be part of a family that lives by those values. He thinks of dad, whispers a silent prayer to the wind thanking him for being what a father needs to be. Secretly, he sends silent support to his mom, to Sebastian and Hunter, who have somehow managed to rebel against the set of rules they've been taught to live by.

"So, train wreck?" he asks after a second.

Hunter smiles a little this time, and his eyes focus back on Kurt for the first time since they started talking about family. "Well, uncle Seb hates the snobbery, and he's not exactly the marrying kind, you know?"

Kurt groans, thinks of hands and backs, lips moving on stranger's necks and touching himself to the sounds of Sebastian. "Trust me, _I know. _I lived with the guy, remember?"

Hunter snickers, and Kurt spies a little of Sebastian in the way his eyes crinkle. Or maybe he's just obsessed. "Anyway, what are your plans? Ohio?"

"Yes." Kurt nods. "I haven't seen Carole and Finn in ages, and Jeff and Nick are flying back, too, so."

"Yeah, Rach's going back too. What about Blaine?"

Kurt shrugs. "I haven't really talked to him about it."

"That bad between you two?"

"Just weird."

Hunter nods, gives him a sympathetic smile and offers to get him a refill. Kurt says please and thank you, and then spends some time staring at Hunter's figure, wondering what his life might have been like if he'd somehow become part of the Smythe clan. He guesses he would have at least had an ally in their mist. He shakes the thought away pretty soon, though, thanks his mom for running away, and for giving him a different last name.

* * *

He ends up going back to Ohio for Thanksgiving, while Hunter goes to Seattle. Rachel and him send him on his way at the airport, and Kurt laughs all through Rachel's tearful goodbye and Hunter's desperate _baby, it's just a weekend. _

Despite how much he loves New York, he's actually happy about the change in scenery. It's nice to spend a whole morning in his pajamas playing video games with Finn and not worrying about any other complications. Finn tells him about taking some classes at the local community college after his failed stint in the army, and also about how he's thinking about going into teaching. Kurt can see that happening, and has the sudden realization that life is catching up with all of them, that they're all full of plans and possible futures.

Carole insists on feeding him too much food, and Kurt finds himself smiling at her motherly care. He assures her that he's okay, that he loves New York and Parsons, even if his classmates can be a bit of a pain in the ass. She asks after Hunter, and Kurt answers with his eyes settled on Finn, not knowing if the Rachel subject is still dangerous. Finn seems fine with it, though, so Kurt just smiles at him, and asks about his love life.

Kurt realizes, after some time, that Ohio doesn't feel as painful as it used to these days, but that it doesn't feel like home, either.

* * *

"Kurt Hummel, I'm going to hug you one full minute for every day we've been apart!" is what Jeff tells him the moment he steps inside the Lima Bean. The excited exclamation crosses the whole establishment, and by the time Jeff's arms are around him, everybody is looking at them.

Kurt laughs, looks at Nick who's coming after Jeff with an amused expression.

"He's not kidding, is he?" Kurt wonders.

"I don't think so, no," Nick tells him. At the same time, he presses both hands to Jeff's waist and says, "Sweetheart, I don't think there's enough time for that."

"Oh fine, break my bubble," Jeff complains. "I'm still getting a long hug, so deal with it."

Jeff does get a long hug, and so does Nick after. By the time they're sitting down, Kurt's smiling like a loon, because that's just what these two do to him. They catch up quickly enough, with Jeff and Nick weaseling a promise to visit them in California out of him. It is only when Jeff gets up for a refill that Kurt catches the shine on his finger, and almost immediately zeroes in on the ring that matches the one on Nick's.

"Is that…?" he begins, pointing at Nick's hand.

"Oh," Nick says, "Promise ring, not, you know. Not yet."

"Oh, wow, thank God," Kurt says, relaxing his shoulders after having tensed them, "not that I don't think you two aren't perfect for each other and everything but, you know. Teenage weddings."

"No, I know. We just…" Nick lets the words linger while his eyes search for Jeff. From his place in the line, Jeff waves at them and Nick smiles. "I've known I was going to marry him since the moment I saw him," Nick says, his eyes leaving Jeff only to look deeply into Kurt's. "I literally told Thad _I'm going to marry that boy someday. _But we're young and we fight and we're just seeing the real world, so we don't need to right now, but maybe when we graduate? We just wanted to make sure there was no doubt about what we are to each other and–Kurt, are you crying?"

"I'm sorry, I just." Kurt sniffs, wipes his moist eyes with his sleeve because _God, these two. _"You two are like a Disney movie come true."

"Oh, Kurt…"

"Oh my God, Kurt's crying!" Jeff exclaims when he comes back, quickly leaving the fresh cups of coffee on the table and diving to hug Kurt fiercely. "Did you make Kurt cry?"

"I think he's just overwhelmed," Nick answers softly, smiling and reaching out to squeeze Kurt's hand.

Kurt just manages to nod before hiding himself somewhere in Jeff's neck. It's two full minutes before he composes himself and the sudden flow or tears stop, only leaving the trails on his cheeks as proof of his small breakdown.

"It's not fair that you two are so perfect," he mutters then.

Jeff kisses his forehead, and with a smile, Nick says, "You'll be our best man, won't you?"

"You can't say no," Jeff informs him.

Kurt nods again, still a little on the overwhelmed side. One day, Jeff and Nick are going to get married, and Kurt is going to be by their side and tell stupid stories about Jeff whispering his feelings for Nick in the darkness of their shared dorm room.

* * *

Before leaving for New York, Kurt goes back to the Lima Bean to meet Blaine. It should be strange that the first time they meet alone after so long is in Ohio, when they've been together in New York for some time now, but it's also fitting in a way. Lima feels more like neutral ground, their place of shared experiences and young love.

It's awkward, because they only know how to be awkward these days, and after a while, Blaine breaks a long silence with:

"I'm seeing someone." He stops, fidgets with his drink and fixes his bowtie nervously. Kurt is reminded of the time he confessed that he liked him, what feels like ages ago at Dalton. "It's very new, and I don't know if it will go anywhere, but–"

"You don't have to explain yourself to me," Kurt says, giving him a small smile. "It's okay. As long as you're happy."

"I am."

"Good."

"Yeah, good." Blaine smiles at him, small and sweet, and with a sigh, he asks, "Can we stop being so awkward? It's just painful."

"God, please, yes," Kurt answers without a second thought. These past months have been hell whenever they've seen each other, and Kurt honestly wants to have Blaine back as his friend.

Blaine smiles again, this time big and sunny in that way he has that makes him look five years old, and stands up, motioning towards Kurt. "Give me a hug, come on."

They hug, and there's familiarity in the way they wrap themselves around each other. Kurt brings Blaine as close as he can and breathes in slowly. Blaine has always been a great hugger.

They break away after a minute, and before they can spend too long smiling stupidly at each other, Blaine breaks their joined gazes and says, "So, anyway, did you see Nick and Jeff? And by that I mean, did they tell you about the rings?"

Kurt nods vigorously. "Yes, of course."

"I think I was speechless for a full minute. Those two are too much."

"I cried," Kurt confesses, "full, fat tears. Total breakdown in the face of true love."

Blaine laughs, and from then on, it feels as if they're truly going to manage some semblance of normal friendship between them. When Blaine asks him if he's okay, though, making reference to their failed attempt at getting back together, Kurt clams up, not wanting to even think about Sebastian. Blaine backs off quickly, and Kurt is grateful, if only because he can hardly explain that part of his breakdown in front of Nick and Jeff had to a lot to do with the impossibility that he and Sebastian are.

* * *

As time passes, New York life becomes more and more what Kurt wants to have forever in his life. He loves the different sides to the city, the bright lights of its night, the lovely shades it takes as the winter nears, and now that his future has a clear direction and he has Hunter, Rachel and Blaine as his little NY family, everything seems alright with the world.

Kurt thinks about the way his life has ended up, thinks about his friends in New York, about a home to go to back in Ohio, about his distant friends in California that he's always going to love and who he's going to watch get married one day. It's almost as if the distant sound of Sebastian's voice in the phone is the only thing that doesn't make sense, like the representation of a place he has no true connection to. And yet, when he closes his eyes, he dreams of long walks in Seattle and green eyes and hands that touch him with reverence.

It hits him, and it feels like a brick pressing against his chest, that no matter what shape his life takes, he's never going to let go of Sebastian.

* * *

It's nearly Christmas when it happens. Kurt's talking to Sebastian on the phone, and he sounds tired and strained, but is refusing to talk about it, assuring Kurt that he's fine, always fine. Kurt frowns, as if Sebastian could see him, but lets it go because he knows which fights he can't win.

Then, Kurt talks about Christmas, tells him that he doesn't know if he wants to go back to Ohio or to stay in New York while wishing that Sebastian understands that what he wants is for them to spend Christmas together, anywhere.

"I'm going to Paris," Sebastian tells him, sudden and sharp, like he's just made the decision.

Kurt inhales, feels the cold air hit his nostrils. He doesn't know why Sebastian's words unsettle him.

"Next week," Sebastian keeps going. It's still the beginnings of December, but Kurt wonders if that means that Christmas together is out for them. Except that the next thing Sebastian says is, "Come with me."

Kurt gasps, says, "Sebast–I, school, and–" Like there could possibly be an excuse not to do just that.

"Just for Christmas, then. I'll buy you a ticket, get you the directions." A beat, and then, "Come spend Christmas in Paris with me, love."

* * *

Kurt goes to Paris. There's no other option for him, not when he's gotten nothing but radio silence from Sebastian since their last talk, but when he has a ticket with his name on it. Sebastian had said _come spend Christmas in Paris with me, love _like that's something people do.

He tells everyone, doesn't know how to otherwise justify a trip across the ocean, and they're all excited except for Hunter, who pulls him away for a short talk, assuming that somehow things aren't going alright.

"Uncle Seb only goes to Paris when he's had too much," he tells him.

"I don't know, Hunt," Kurt answers. "He just asked, ok?"

So off to Paris Kurt goes. He arrives early in the morning, even when his body insists that it's too late to be awake. There's a car at the airport for him, and this eerily resembles his first arrival at Seattle. Kurt's too tired to care though, and too fascinated by the city around him, old and grey and covered in snow. Kurt can't take his eyes away from the window, not even when the driver laughs a little at the expense of his wide-eyed looks.

The driver leaves him at an apartment building somewhere in the city, and Kurt finds himself in front of a closed door touching the doorbell with a trembling finger yet again. He's not exactly sure what he's doing here, but he's in Paris, and Sebastian is on the other side of the door, and right now his mind is too tired to think beyond that.

Sebastian opens the door in sweatpants and a t-shirt, his hair a complete mess and a pair of glasses sitting crookedly on his nose. It's too early in the morning, and he smells of linens and sleep.

"You're here," Sebastian says, his voice raspy from sleep. "I wasn't sure you'd come."

Kurt doesn't say anything. He doesn't know what he's supposed to say, or what he's supposed to do. When Sebastian reaches for him, his long fingers finding purchase on Kurt's arms and _pulling, _Kurt goes without a protest. He almost collides with Sebastian's chest, and it's ok, because they've never been smooth when it comes to moving closer, but they always get it right once they're there. He moves his arms up and around Sebastian's neck, pushes closer and up, and sighs when Sebastian kisses him full on the mouth. It feels like coming home.

Kurt's tired, and he's been nervous and touchy for the past two weeks, so he nearly melts at the touch, his body sagging against Sebastian's and letting him hold him up. It's a lazy kiss, full of tongue and spit and so much longing that it almost breaks Kurt in two.

Sebastian breaks the kiss with a soft pop, their lips lingering close together as Sebastian leans his forehead against Kurt's and breathes on his face. His hand is at Kurt's neck, his finger running between the short hairs they find absentmindedly, almost soothing.

"You must be tired," Sebastian says against his mouth. Kurt feels the movement on his lips and can't stop himself from pushing in for a short kiss that Sebastian sighs into. "Let's sleep," Sebastian orders.

Kurt follows Sebastian inside then. He leaves his suitcase by the door and removes his clothes in a hypnotized daze, not looking around him and not caring where he throws them to. All he sees after a while is an unmade, comfortable looking bed, and in just his boxers, he dives in right after Sebastian. He finds his place in Sebastian's arms, and falls asleep.

* * *

Kurt wakes up and the sun is still up and shining through the big window that dominates the room he's in. His mouth feels pasty, and his eyes are sticky, but he feels well rested. He sits up and for the first time looks around him at the spacious room. It's nice, full of a charm he hasn't seen in American homes, and it feels lived in.

He finds some clothes on a chair that must belong to Sebastian, but he puts them on anyway, and pads softly around the apartment, searching for life. It's a big apartment, full of windows with a great view, and Kurt looks around fascinated. Now that the tiredness is gone, it's finally sinking in that he's in _Paris. _

He finds Sebastian curled up with a book in his lap, glasses still on. When he spots Kurt, he smiles.

"Feeling better?" he asks.

Kurt nods, and with half a smile walks into the room and sits down next to Sebastian, a prudential distance between them. He's still unsure about what they're doing here, even if they greeted each other like long lost lovers.

"I should take a shower, though," is the first thing he says. He pulls his legs up into the couch and wraps his arms around his knees, as if protecting himself from an unknown enemy.

Sebastian just nods, and Kurt notices that his expression, now without a smile, reveals nothing. "We could go out to dinner later, if you're up to it."

Kurt smiles. "Sure, definitely."

"Great," Sebastian says, smiling back. Kurt has the distinct feeling of having been asked out on a date.

* * *

Sebastian takes him out for dinner, and despite earlier realizations, it's only when he's ordering in his only half decent French that he smiles giddily about this whole situation.

"We're having dinner," he says, "in _Paris._"

Sebastian laughs at the clear glee in his eyes, and Kurt notices that the feeling seems to catch on, if the easiness of Sebastian's smile is anything to go by.

"I don't think I've ever seen you this happy," Sebastian says.

Kurt scoffs. "Well, you've never taken me to Paris before."

Sebastian laughs again, and the truth is that Kurt has never seen him happier either. There are no shadows in his eyes, and maybe Paris is to Sebastian what New York is to Kurt.

"Anyway, what's with the humungous apartment in the best part of the city?" Kurt wonders. He's drinking wine at Sebastian's insistence, he's incredibly awake due to the jet-lag, and he wants to know everything. "How much money do you have exactly? I'm starting to think you might be a member of the mob."

Sebastian looks at him and then to his right and to his left, the green dancing in his eyes. "Well, since you've found out, now I'm going to have to kill you." Kurt sticks his tongue out at him, and after doing the exact same thing, Sebastian continues, "It was my grandparents', and I inherited it. Everything else was divided among the family, but grand-père knew how much I loved that house."

Sebastian shrugs like it's nothing, like he doesn't have a fantastic house in the middle of Paris that he invited Kurt to, and like he hasn't just shared more about his life while not in the dark than ever before.

They finish their dinner and then Kurt insists on a short walk, if only because he can't possibly sleep right now. A part of him is worried about the way to proceed when they do get home, too. They walk side by side in silence, Sebastian brushing the back of his fingers against Kurt's in a way that doesn't feel entirely accidental. The city around them is wonderful, like nothing Kurt's ever seen before. It feels old and weary, like it's been built with bits and pieces through time, instead of carefully planned, and Kurt knows that he's going to love it.

They stop under the light of a streetlamp eventually, just to admire everything around them. It's extremely cold, and Kurt wraps his arms around himself and watches his breath leave his mouth as white fog. He looks at Sebastian, tall and dark and gorgeous, and thinks about stepping closer and wrapping himself up in his warmth. He doesn't, though, still unsure about where they stand. It is only the sight of something fuzzy and huge that breaks his resolve, sending him into Sebastian's arms with a squeak.

Sebastian yelps, surprised, but still puts his arms around Kurt's back and holds him there. "What is it, love?" The word rolls so easily out of his tongue that Kurt almost forgets about fuzzy and huge. Except, not really.

Kurt points somewhere behind him, but keeps his eyes closed against Sebastian's neck. "I saw a rat."

Sebastian laughs against his ear, a little breathless. "_Ah, oui, __bienvenue__ à __Paris. _The city of romance, with its beautiful lights and its unforgettable corners, infested with rats and French people. It's all part of its charm."

"I don't see how rats are part of anything's charm."

But Sebastian keeps his arms around him, warm and tight, so maybe they do have its uses.

* * *

That night, Sebastian sits down on the edge of the bed and Kurt hovers near the door of the bedroom. They've been here before, and Kurt knows this feeling, the dizziness of not knowing where to go from here. Last time, Sebastian called him to him, and Kurt could do nothing but follow. This time, Kurt goes of his own volition, his steps soft on the wooden floor as he approaches Sebastian. He stands close enough that their knees are touching, and Sebastian looks up. There's only moonlight illuminating the room, clear and bright through the big window, and Sebastian's eyes look almost black in this light.

Kurt reaches for him, presses his hands to his shoulders and settles on his lap, his thighs spreading over Sebastian's with ease.

"Kurt–"

Kurt covers Sebastian's mouth with his hand before he can spout of excuses Kurt has already thought of himself. He's been unsure for weeks, but he's suddenly aware that Sebastian has brought him to Paris, and that there's no way they're not doing this. Wrong or not, they're already here.

Kurt moves his hand away and Sebastian says nothing, only looking at him, a question in his eyes. Kurt parts his lips, breathes out. He's nervous and excited. It's been too long, and he feels like he's waited too much for this, like he's spent the past couple of years cheating himself out of his true desires. It's Sebastian who kisses him, a groan falling from his lips as he crushes their mouths together, that edge of desperation they can't run away from invading the kiss. Kurt kisses back fiercely, as if making sure Sebastian won't run away.

Sebastian puts his hands to his neck and then slides them down, pulling Kurt closer when they press against his shoulder blades. Kurt moves closer, impossibly so, his arms tight on Sebastian's back and his lips nearly hurting they're kissing so hard. Sebastian's hands keep moving down his back, and once they find a place under Kurt's shirt, they start moving up. Kurt moves away from Sebastian's lips to remove the shirt, and then goes back to his lips. Sebastian's hands map the freed skin slowly, his fingers digging in hard in their path down Kurt's spine.

Kurt shivers, feels suddenly cold, and Sebastian clutches him hard, covering his skin as best as he can with his own covered arms.

"I'm good, I'm ok," Kurt mouths in between kisses, thinking that no matter the cold, they need to be naked as soon as possible.

He pushes at Sebastian's chest until he moves back and lands on the bed, his hands moving almost immediately to Kurt's hips and pressing hard. Kurt holds still, breathing hard in the silence between them, and then moves to Sebastian's neck, his lips soft as they touch the skin. He unbuttons Sebastian's shirt without paying too much attention, groans when the buttons put up a fight and refuse to cooperate. Sebastian's busy scratching at his back to pay attention to the process, his nails waking up Kurt's skin.

When Kurt finally gets rid of Sebastian's shirt, Sebastian fidgets under him, mumbles _come up here _as he stumbles up until they're both lying down fully on the bed. Sebastian moves fast then, hovering above Kurt for a second before pressing a kiss to the center of his chest and pushing both hands to the waistband of his jeans to pull them down. He drags his underwear with them, but before Kurt can feel the cold again, Sebastian covers him up with his own body. Kurt arches into it, seeks the closeness and curses that Sebastian's own pants are still on. He reaches for them with both hands, ends up burying them inside and tucking them awkwardly next to Sebastian's cock. He exhales as Sebastian mewls against his neck, the hot puff of air that is his breath tickling Kurt's skin.

Sebastian reaches down to quickly get rid of the rest of his clothes, and even while hopping awkwardly to do it, his lips never stop touching Kurt. He presses a line of kisses to the inside of Kurt's arm, where the skin is impossibly sensitive, mouths at his neck and down to his collarbone, kisses his chest again, and then moves down in a straight line to his navel. When he's finally naked, he pushes himself fully on top of Kurt and returns to his lips, parts them with his tongue and sinks into the feeling. Kurt moans inside the kiss, grabs at whatever part of Sebastian's naked skin he can find.

They roll on the bed, back and forth in that way that Kurt always thought only happened in the movies, like they can't stay still, like their skin isn't enough to contain them. And Kurt thinks it may be true, because he feels hazy, gone, so consumed that he can't think of anything that isn't the feeling of Sebastian's skin against his own. When they finally separate, it's only so Sebastian can slowly push his fingers inside Kurt. He has great hands, his fingers long and his palms wide, and Kurt spreads his legs for them with no sign of shame.

Sebastian looks at him the whole time, his lips coming down every few seconds to touch Kurt's warm, flushed cheeks, or to slide down his neck, like he can't stop himself. His free hand scratches lightly at the skin on Kurt's stomach, the touch slow and wide, as if denying the frantic feeling around them.

Kurt begs an insistent _nownownownow, _and Sebastian pushes into him, keeping one of Kurt's legs around his waist and the other over his shoulder. He stops, takes just a moment to kiss Kurt's face, his forehead, his nose, his cheeks and his eyes, before looking at him for a too long second and kissing his mouth.

Kurt feels Sebastian wanting to go slow once he starts thrusting inside him, but it's almost like it's too much to ask, and his rhythm ends up being stuttery and hard. Kurt soaks up the feeling, clutches at Sebastian's shoulders and then slides his hands down his chest, feeling his own hard cock bob against his stomach, untouched. The feeling is fantastic, all-consuming and dirty, and Kurt can't get enough.

He does his own kissing of Sebastian's face as they fuck, straining to reach the skin and finding the different angles of their position as he does so. Sebastian kisses back, sloppy, his tongue licking at Kurt's chin before delving back into his mouth. It feels like they've been doing this for ages and yet it doesn't seem like it will ever be enough.

Kurt moans, high, his mouth forming a tight o when Sebastian grabs his hips and angles him up and close. It's uncomfortable on his back, and he has to drop the leg on Sebastian's shoulder to wrap them both around his waist, but it feels wonderful, the pleasure bright and sharp.

"Don't ever stop," Kurt keens, "Fuck, don't ever stop."

Sebastian half laughs and half moans above him, his hand sliding continuously from Kurt's hips to his thighs and his ass, the movement eased by the sheen of sweat covering Kurt's body.

"I don't think you can take forever, love," Sebastian whispers at the same time he reaches for Kurt's cock, touching him with nothing but the pads of his fingers.

Kurt feels the touch all the way down to his toes, and arches his back to get Sebastian closer. He feels the long fingers wrap around his cock then, tight, long and wonderful as they stroke slowly over him. He comes with Sebastian's third sharp tug, his back arched and his lips parted as he presses Sebastian closer with the heels of his feet firmly planted on Sebastian's back. He rides the waves of pleasure, feels all of his body awake and every muscle tensing before they finally relax to an almost boneless state.

Sebastian pushes inside him one more time, and then he pulls out. Kurt grimaces at the loss, and doesn't let Sebastian get away, keeping him close with the legs he still hasn't unwrapped from his waist.

"Not going anywhere," Sebastian murmurs as he pulls the condom away and strokes his own hard cock while hovering over Kurt. It's not the first time he sees the image of Sebastian above him, sweaty, hard and flushed, his hair a complete mess and his muscles tense, but it's not one Kurt will ever get tired of.

Sebastian comes quietly, pressing his lips tightly together as well as his eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down with his harsh breathing. By the time he drops down on top of Kurt, there's a sticky mess between them, they're both sweaty and disgusting, and they're not ready to let go.

Kurt kisses Sebastian almost immediately, not leaving him any time to recuperate. Their kisses are short and soft, and they share harsh pants and threads of saliva that hang from their lips, a dirty connection keeping them close. Kurt smiles against Sebastian's mouth, knows he must be able to feel the expression on his own lips.

When Kurt reaches down for Sebastian's ass, Sebastian asks, "Are you trying to kill me here? Don't I even get a minute?"

Kurt just smiles, and he pushes and prods until a groany Sebastian is on his back, his arms stretched above his head. Kurt presses his hands to his shoulders, and moves them up slowly, caressing the expanse of Sebastian's arms until he links their hands together.

"No," Kurt says, "you don't even get a minute."

* * *

Paris with Sebastian is… _Paris with Sebastian. _They spend their days walking around despite the coldness of the winter, Kurt looking wide-eyed at everything as Sebastian all but drags him behind him, his hand clasping Kurt's tightly. The city suits Sebastian, makes him look happy and nostalgic at the same time, and it brings old stories from his childhood and teenager years out of him. Kurt watches and hears, because he's never seen Sebastian this free.

When they're not walking, they sleep together, or laze around the house naked. They read to each other, and Kurt spends hours counting the freckles on Sebastian's back, mapping out constellations on his skin. They also kiss and touch outside, Sebastian constantly pulling him close, like now that they're doing this he can't stop.

Kurt knows it can't last. They're not talking about it, but it's obvious to Kurt that Sebastian is escaping his life for a while, and that he's allowing himself what he wouldn't otherwise. For now, though, Kurt can do nothing but enjoy it. This is what life with Sebastian could be, what they could be together, and Kurt needs to grasp it and hold on for as long as he has it.

They exchange Christmas gifts, and instead of dining out that night, Kurt cooks in the tiny kitchen and they eat in front of the television, Sebastian softly translating what Kurt doesn't understand. When they're done, Kurt kisses Sebastian quiet, and lets the French drawl of the television be the only background sound to the slip and slide of their lips coming together.

New Year's is more of the same, filled with a quiet dinner and a _The Breakfast Club _DVD that Kurt can't help but laugh at when Sebastian brings out. They don't finish the movie this year, choosing instead to fuck on the floor, all of Sebastian's body covering Kurt's as the clock announces the new day.

* * *

Two days before Kurt is scheduled to leave, they're lying together in bed, Kurt's fingers busy with a cluster of five freckles low on Sebastian's hipbone, tantalizingly close to his hard cock.

"You love this city, don't you?" he asks, laughing when Sebastian groans and his hip jumps under Kurt's hand.

Kurt pushes down, and then presses a small kiss to the spot where his fingers linger.

"I do, yes," Sebastian says after a sigh. Kurt's pretty sure he's learnt that Kurt can be even more stubborn than him.

Kurt hums, rests his chin on Sebastian's hip, and reaches out for his cock, strokes it lazily and watches Sebastian relax under the touch, resigned to soft and slow.

"Why did you come here this time?" Kurt asks.

Sebastian looks down at him, and then lets his head fall back down against the pillow. "Is this some new kind of torturous interrogation, princess?"

"That's exactly what it is," Kurt answers. He knows Sebastian only calls him princess when he's feeling particularly frustrated, though, so he takes pity on him and licks a long, slow stripe up his cock.

Sebastian groans, but keeps his hips still. Kurt keeps at it then, licking up and down at a random pace, keeping both hands spread on Sebastian's jutting hipbones. When Sebastian doesn't say anything else, Kurt stops and looks up at him expectantly.

"Bad week," Sebastian tells him after an annoyed grunt. Kurt puts his tongue back on him, and Sebastian keeps talking. "Bad month, or hell, bad year. Boring job," he stutters here, inhales sharply when Kurt moves one of his hands to tug sharply at his balls. "Boring family," Sebastian continues, "Boring _life._"

Kurt stops, just a second. He looks up at Sebastian, his mouth still around his cock, and finds his green eyes clouded and dark. Then, he keeps moving, changing his slow rhythm for a punishing, fast one that brings Sebastian off in no time at all, his mouth parted wide as he gasps for breath. With the taste of come still in his mouth, Kurt moves up and kisses him deep, mouth wide and lips wet.

"You need change," Kurt murmurs some time later, when he's lying against Sebastian's chest and he can whisper the words to the crook of his neck. "And I think you need me."

* * *

The big fight happens the day before Kurt leaves. Sebastian is leaning against a window and Kurt is leaning against him, his face pressed against Sebastian chest and his arms wrapped loosely around his waist. Kurt feels lazy and warm, and with his impending trip present in his mind, he says:

"You should come live with me in New York."

The sentence lingers between them, almost palpable. Without a word, Sebastian disentangles himself from Kurt, putting physical distance between them like that can protect him from Kurt's words.

"We've talked about this, Kurt, haven't we?" Sebastian says. He's not looking at Kurt when he speaks again. "It's not–It's not _right._"

Kurt feels anger well up in his throat, but stops himself from any harshness. He needs to talk about this, but yelling at Sebastian won't get him anything. "What was this whole thing about, then?"

"What?"

"This!" Kurt exclaims, and almost unconsciously throws his arms out as if he can physically represent their situation. "You get tired of your life so you run to Paris and fuck your son for a couple of weeks, is that it? And then what?"

"Kurt, you have a life to go back to."

Kurt licks his lips, stops the ball of pain from bubbling up and over. Sebastian always tries to convince him that this is what's best for him, after all.

"This is life, too, you know?" he says.

Sebastian moves another step back, and then starts pacing. Kurt follows his movement, to the right, to the left and then to the right again. Sebastian grabs at his hair, covers his mouth with his hands.

"This is a break," Sebastian says at last, "which doesn't make it ok, I know, but as long as it's just–"

"And what happens when you need another break?" Kurt asks. He's not yelling, but his throat feels raw, almost in pain, and he knows he's in the verge of tears. He feels like he's going to spend all of his life fighting Sebastian, pushing and pushing and hoping that Sebastian will give in. "What then?"

"I won't n–"

"Yes, you will!" Kurt interrupts again. He's been listening to Sebastian for a long time, and now he needs to be the one doing the talking. "You hate your life, _dad. _You hate your job and your family, and you're so lonely that you fuck everything that moves. So you'll get tired again, and you'll call me, and I will jump on a fucking plane for you, don't you get it?"

Sebastian says nothing and just stands there, looking at Kurt. His hands are twitchy by his sides, as if he wants to reach out but won't allow himself to do it. Kurt wishes he would, even more now that he notices the wetness of his cheeks from the tears he can't stop. His throat hurts, but he keeps going.

"It's your game and your rules," he says, "and I have to sit down and wait for you to decide if you're going to pay a visit, or if you're going to call or if you're going to send a stupid thoughtful gift. And the worst part is that I can't stop." He stops talking, though, lets the sob that wants to escape free and curls in on himself, one hand against his mouth and one arm around his own waist. "I can't stop," he nearly whispers. "I'm always going to wait, and I'm always going to jump on that plane, and it's _not fair._"

Sebastian inhales deeply, takes a step forward. "Kurt, I'm your father."

"You're not my father!" and this time, Kurt does yell. "You're _never _going to be my father."

"You can't hold onto that childish notion just because you don't think of me as your father. Kurt," Sebastian stops, swallows, "we could never make it work."

"We could try," Kurt counters. He's fully crying now, his tears unstoppable and cold, sobs breaking from his mouth when he can't stop them. "It's not ideal, but we wouldn't hurt anybody."

"I think I would hurt you."

Sebastian reaches out then, brings Kurt's closer when Kurt doesn't stop him, and cradles him against his chest. It feels like he's been defeated yet again, like Sebastian has set the line wherever he wants and will never allow Kurt to cross it, no matter that they've spent the last two weeks fucking each other in every corner of this house. Kurt can't take it, not this time. What Sebastian says is true, he _has _a life. Kurt has friends, ambitions and a city that feels like home, and he can't hang onto the hope of Sebastian deciding that he needs him on occasion. With that in mind, he breaks away from his embrace.

Kurt looks up at Sebastian from his new place, the space between them big enough to fit another person. Sebastian looks hurt, and Kurt wants to yell at him again because he has no right at all.

"Then it stops," Kurt says, "Everything stops. No calls, no gifts, no trips. I can't spend my life waiting for you, so I need to know that you won't be there at all."

"Love, don't–"

"You spent thirty-one years without me around, Sebastian, it shouldn't be that hard." Kurt's being harsh. He knows it and he doesn't want to stop, because this is breaking him in two, and he wants Sebastian to hurt. "You don't want us to be this, and I can't handle the in between. If you want me to have a life, you have to let me live it."

Silence rings between them heavy and tense. Kurt isn't crying anymore, but if he looks at Sebastian for too long he thinks he will start again. This is not the way his last night in Paris should go, not at all. Looking up and into Sebastian's eyes, he decides to have this one last time, at least.

"Well," he says, his voice broken and tired, "aren't you going to say goodbye to me?"

One step, his arms reaching out, and Sebastian is kissing him. He kisses him again and again, and doesn't stop until it's time for Kurt to leave.

* * *

Sebastian doesn't take him to the airport this time. He's not there when Kurt leaves, and so Kurt can't cling to him, can't keep a sliver of hope. He knows it's for the best, but he feels like he's broken the best thing he's ever had.

* * *

Kurt has a life to go back to, though. He has classes that he pours himself into, if only because he can't let his mind wander to unwanted places. Most of all, though, he has friends.

Kurt comes back from Paris to Hunter and Rachel broken up. He spends a full weekend at Rachel's, hugging her through her tears, eating ice-cream and watching old musicals. If he cries a few tears of his own, he claims empathy.

He takes Hunter out for drinks, and he chooses silence as a form of expression. He drinks too much, though, gets drunk and kisses Kurt at the door of his apartment, pressing him against the wooden surface with desperation. Kurt feels tempted to edge him on, but Hunter wants Rachel back, and Kurt hardly thinks sleeping with his cousin is going to solve anything.

Blaine insists on introducing Kurt to his new boy, so they meet up for coffee, and Kurt drags Hunter to it because he doesn't want him to recede into his quiet, lonely self. Blaine is happy, his presence a constant sunshine in Kurt's life, and Kurt thinks that if he stays close enough, he could soak up some of that happiness.

He talks to Nick and Jeff regularly, and just listening to them being excited about their lives is enough to lift Kurt's spirits.

Two months and a half after New Year's, he gets fed up of Rachel and Hunter and orders them to talk to each other and fix whatever it is they broke during Christmas. He gets uncomfortably personal, yells at them for having love so close and so easy and choosing to stubbornly step away from it. When they get back together, Hunter hugs Kurt for a good fifteen minutes, and Kurt wonders if he isn't holding up as well as he thinks.

For three months, there's radio silence from Sebastian. And then, one day, he shows up at Kurt's doorstep.

* * *

"I want a fruit basket," Kurt is saying when the doorbell rings. He points an accusing finger at Hunter and Rachel as he gets up, and says again, "A _huge_ fruit basket. You two have been unbearable for the past few months."

"I'll get you free tickets to my awesome new show off-off-Broadway," Rachel says.

Kurt sticks his tongue out at her, and finally reaches the door and pulls it open. Behind it, he finds Sebastian. He looks tired and uncomfortable, a laptop case hanging from one shoulder and a small suitcase by his side. Kurt blinks, opens his mouth, finds himself speechless.

"Hey, love," Sebastian says. His voice is raspy and low, like he's been yelling too much, or like he's been sick.

"Uncle Seb?" comes from behind Kurt. Kurt follows Sebastian's gaze as it moves past him, knows that he must have spotted Hunter, but he's too dumbfounded to understand what's going on. He made Sebastian promise full separation, but he's here, and he's carrying a suitcase.

"Hey, Hunt," Sebastian says, waving awkwardly. Hunter moves in for a hug, and Kurt steps away from them so they can share the most awkward hug in the history of hugs. Kurt would be amused by them if he didn't feel so completely confused.

"What are you doing here?" Hunter asks. "You didn't call." Then, after a bit, "Who am I kidding? You never call."

Kurt snorts noisily, and then covers his mouth when both of them look at him.

"Who is it?" Rachel joins them by the door, and with that, it's almost like all hell breaks loose.

Kurt wants, well, Kurt wants many things, but mostly he wants to question Sebastian, wants to know what he's doing here, what the suitcase means. Instead, as soon as Rachel takes the leading voice in the conversation, he finds himself sharing dinner in his apartment with the three of them. He stays quiet, listens to Hunter and Sebastian catch up, marveling at the clear familial bond between them, at the way they tease back and forth in a way that's innocent and not at all like Sebastian and himself do. Then, Rachel talks and talks about her inspiring career at NYADA, and Kurt watches Sebastian nodding like an automaton. When he gives him a look that says _I can't believe this girl, _Kurt can't stop his smile.

Hunter and Rachel leave early enough, Hunter dragging Rachel behind him after telling them both to call. And then, they're alone for the first time in three months, the silence heavy between them. It's painful in a way that's entirely too familiar for Kurt.

"What are you doing here?" Kurt finally asks. He's standing up, looking at Sebastian sitting on his couch. He's fidgety and nervous, and he's ready to cry and to scream at the smallest of provocations.

Sebastian seems uncomfortable, and after a while, he mostly seems tired. He sags against the couch, his shoulders relaxing and his hands coming to rest by his side, palms up. His legs are spread too, his position as open as it can possibly be. He looks defeated, and Kurt thinks that he looks older than he is.

"I can't make you any promises," he says, finally. He looks up, his green eyes – as different from Kurt's as they've always been – shining in the low light of the room.

"What does that mean?" Kurt asks. Unconsciously, he takes a step forward.

"It means." Sebastian stops, licks his lips. "It means I will always feel guilty, and that even if you think we can create some kind of fairytale out of this it won't be, and that I have moods and I get stupid and you're going to hate me more often than you're going to love me."

Kurt breathes in, loud and sharp. This is as close as he's ever going to get to hearing _I love you _from Sebastian, and his insides are trying to curl in on themselves and to jump out of his body at the same time. When the tears start welling at the corner of his eyes, he doesn't stop them from falling down.

"You're crying," Sebastian says, "Why are you crying? I always make you cry."

"I'm a crier," Kurt says, "I cry a lot."

Sebastian smiles, a tiny curve adorning his lips, and suddenly he looks younger. He stands up slowly, and walks towards Kurt as if he was a scared animal, or as if he wants to give him time to step away. Kurt doesn't move, and when Sebastian reaches him, he puts both arms around him, bringing his hands to his back.

"You can't back out," Kurt tells him, "You can't leave me a month from here because you changed your mind."

"I won't," Sebastian says, his voice soft, tiny and honest.

Kurt looks up then, hooks his arms around Sebastian's neck and really looks at him. He looks so very tired, and Kurt can only imagine how much he's fought himself with this decision. Kurt wants to wrap himself around him, and never let go. He thinks he's going to do just that.

They gravitate towards each other, meet in the middle with a kiss, wet and slow. Kurt feels the urge to press in hard, but then realizes that he has all the time in the world, that for the first time ever they're saying hello instead of goodbye, and that he doesn't need to rush and push.

"Let's go get some sleep," he says in the small space between them, his warm breath caressing Sebastian's mouth.

Sebastian smiles, and the skin around his eyes crinkles. "Yes, let's get some sleep."

THE END.


End file.
